


This Love is Alive (Back from the Dead)

by twoheadlights (fizzfic)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Music, M/M, Musicians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:06:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9587126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzfic/pseuds/twoheadlights
Summary: in an alternate world where taylor swift does not existit isn’t easy singing your feelings to the whole world. ask phil lester; he would know better than anyone else. and it isn’t his fault he has a lot of feelings. it isn’t his fault he likes writing them down and it isn’t his fault that people seem to relate to him. he could never in his wildest dreams imagined one quite like dan howell to change his mind about everything.





	1. I. this love is alive

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is a fic i wrote in 2015 for the phandom big bang and basically it, along with my old blog, got deleted. i was very proud of it (still am) so i decided to rewrite bits and pieces and post it again for y'all! 
> 
> shoutout to [nad](http://archiveofourown.org/users/snsk) for being my beta this time round and for being so nice about everything even with our differences (cough As A L*rrie cough). And thank you for yelling at me for writing a sequel thing because that's definitely happening.  
> (you'll see why)
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr](http://checkyesphil.tumblr.com/)! discuss things with me :p

**I. this love is alive**

 

**_we begin our story in new york_** **;**

**_there was once a boy known by everyone and no one._ **

 

If Phil could choose a place to live, just one, it would be New York. There's a certain magic about it, that isn't in London or anywhere else in the UK. You would think a guy like him, from _Rossendale_ of all places, would obviously be captivated by the city that never sleeps, but he’s been all over the world in the past seven years and _still_ New York hits him like no other city has.

When Phil walks on the streets of New York, he can _feel_ the hopes and dreams in the air. Someone rushing to their first job interview; another one’s heart beating faster than a rabbit’s because they’re going to propose to the love of their life. Some of them give off sad vibes and that upsets him. As someone who’s gone through a _lot_ of shit in the past, he can sympathize - empathize even.

New York is a song anyone with a dream can dance along to. It’s a home that you won’t be turned away from. Once you’re here, you can’t leave. You won’t _want_ to leave.

You’re a Someone in the city. Every single person has been at some point in their lives. They come because they have a dream and whether or not they’ve lived it doesn’t matter because there will always be one to chase.

“I would love to live here someday,” Phil says, looking out at the streets, taking a sip of his boiling hot coffee.

Olivia rolls her eyes. “You’re a rich superstar person. You could live _anywhere_. You could book a viewing right this second and get the flat the next second.”

Phil shakes his head. “I can’t. It’s not the same as London, I dunno. Imagine me, in America, but full-time. Me.”

Olivia looks at him exasperatedly. “I do _not_ understand you artist types. Finish your coffee and we’ll walk around your precious New York. Does the press still think we had a fall out? Will me being with you make it into the papers? ‘Phil Lester Gets Back Together With His Ex...Best Friend!’”

*

Phil Lester: multiple Grammy award winner, sold out Madison Square Garden, wrote a whole album by himself, serial dater.

The last one is more of an opinion than a fact. Some people (the media) care quite a lot about who Phil is with. Others don’t, but they need a reason to not like Phil is what his manager concludes.

“They’re jobless is what they are,” he tells Phil. “Ignore them honey. You’re the one with the bucks. And the dick.” Phil laughs, but the thought still nags him.

He thinks of Ian, and memories of them in this very city flood in. They were seventeen, so, _so_ young and they were on the front page of so many magazines. Phil only had one album out, he hadn’t even headlined his own tour (yet). They ended things so messily, and he’d handled the aftermath not so great either. But back then, people applauded him. They said, good for you! Call him out on what he did! But then they made amends, didn’t they? Granted, they’re not the best of buds, but now Phil can at least look back on their time together and smile because it had been _good_.

It’s a studio day, and he’s writing with Kelly and Sara, probably the coolest people he’s worked with on this particular album. They have all these crazy ideas about music he wants to make, but just... _can’t_. See, he’s a strictly indie artist, and has been for his entire time in the music industry so far, but recently his ideas have been hitting him in pop melodies and basically, he’s going very, very against his label by going forward with it. They’ve limited him because they have that power but he doesn’t care. He’s excited by the prospect of pop music and a little scared but if he learned anything from his time with Ian (and that whole era, to be honest), it’s to be fearless.

“So this guy I used to be with,” he starts, “he came to one of my shows. And like, we hadn’t seen each other since some award show? But he came, and he saw me perform these songs, sing words meant for _him_. It was strange, but…nice? I don’t know. We’d actually performed there together on his tour.” _Oops_. They’ll know who it is now. Oh, well. He shrugs. “So yeah. It felt like we were on familiar grounds or something. We talked later and it wasn’t weird at all. Not like when there were people everywhere and we knew they were looking at us.”

He was interrupted by a loud rapping on the door.

“PHIL! Open up!” It’s Ryan. Phil hasn’t seen him for about two months. Not since he and Stephen broke up for what seemed like the tenth time (the worst time).

Ryan walks in before Phil could ‘open up’, arms spread wide. “Hey!” He wraps himself around Phil, forcing him to put his guitar down. “Ryan, hi,” he says, looking bewildered at the receptionist standing outside the door helplessly. “How are you?”

He lets go of Phil and replies casually, “Oh, I’m fine, the usual. When were you going to tell me about you and Stephen getting back together?”

Phil stares. “What?”

“Yeah, Stephen’s told everyone at last night’s party. And y’know. It’s so you two, no offence, with your back and forth and back and forth.”

“Did he?” Phil grits his teeth. Typical. “Um, Ryan. See, the thing is. We haven’t and are _never_ getting back together. I’m not sure what gave _Stephen_ the idea either. I’m sorry.”

Ryan should've known better. He was there at Phil's birthday. He was the one with his arms around Phil's shaking figure, trying to console him.

Anyway. Ryan leaves, slightly embarrassed and Phil turns to Kelly and Sara. "I really am sorry about that." He says. They wave his apology away and get back to writing.

He wrote two songs in the studio that day.

* * *

 

 

**_his heart belonged to someone who couldn’t stay_** **.**

 

Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. Phil thinks that’s the most romantic thing ever. Just the fact that someone who might not think they’re all that in their own eyes are actually _everything_ in someone else’s.

But this someone doesn’t know.

All he wanted was to say hello. What he got in return was more or less spectacular (he’s always loved the word _spectacular_. Imagine having a _spectacular_ day).

Phil got  Dan Howell.

His eyes - always wandering - lock with Phil’s and don’t look away. You know that feeling when you’re at a concert and it’s dark and you’re waiting for your favourite artist, the one you’ve wanted to see for _so_ long, and it feels like your entire life has led to this moment? That’s the feeling that went through Phil when Dan looked at him. He tilts his head to the side as if asking in the quietest way possible, _have we met_? Phil looks away immediately, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. He’s heard of Dan. Not that he’s a big fan of news articles about himself or he spends all his free time reading what the world thinks he’s up to, but Dan’s face is as frequently plastered all over tabloids as his is, maybe even more.

Dan is - for want of a better word - a newbie. But already his first album debuted at number three and he’d been winning every award he’d been nominated for. He’s the epitome of charm, at least that’s what Phil has heard. They’ve never met, and this is Dan’s first time in America and Phil _knows_ how that feels. He wonders if Dan had the same feeling of, _what the fuck is this really happening to me holy shit_. If he’ll write about it.

Phil knows he’s walking towards them. He _knows_ because he could feel his presence and he’s sure everyone else could too. He’s young, but stands out. Tall, handsome, successful. They’d seen plenty like him.

“Evening, gentlemen.” The _voice_. Phil had heard it for the first time live when he received his three awards. “Nice, huh?”

"I'll say," Adam says chuckling. "Congratulations, not only for winning all the awards tonight but also beating Philly here for Best Single."

Dan looks at Phil and he thinks, _why aren't more songs about brown eyes_? _What a beautiful contribution to humanity, the existence of people with brown eyes._

"Sorry." His voice is soft then, and so is his smile.

Phil tips his glass of wine in his direction and smile as a way of accepting his apology. The conversation goes on but neither Dan nor Phil participate. Dan catches his eye and directs a hardly noticeable nod towards the corner of the room. Phil turns around and walks steadily towards the little spot where no one was stood, away from the crowd. For unknown reasons (lie), his heart rate increases twofold. A familiar feeling, a different person.

_No. No. I can't. Not this time._

Dan follows, taking his time. Once he finally reaches Phil, he laughs nervously.

“I’m really sorry about the award thing.” Phil says quickly, sensing his unease. “They’re silly. I don’t care that you beat me. I have too many Best Single awards anyway.” He realizes what that sounds like and slaps himself mentally. “I - I mean -”

“It’s fine, Phil, honestly.” Dan replies calmly. “It’s so nice to meet you. You’re like, a living legend.”

Phil blushes. No one’s ever called him a legend. Not personally, anyway.

*

The colours of the night changed from the moment Dan Howell started talking. He spoke of many things: the time he pulled down his manager’s trousers, another time he _stole_ an award (“well I mean, it wasn’t stealing exactly. I was a little tipsy, I put it down my pants - _stop laughing_!”). Phil’s suddenly having the time of his life. He’d heard a lot about Dan - that he’s charming, funny, good company - and most of it’s true, Phil’s coming to find out. A small part of his brain was telling him frantically to be careful, but its voice grew fainter and fainter as the night went on.

“I remember reading this article about you.” Dan says, smirking at him. A feeling of dread washes over him. _Oh no_. “It said you had a personal maid for your dog?”

Phil lets out a huff of air through his nose and laughs. “ _No way_. Where’d you hear that? Oh my God, I wouldn’t trust anyone with Thor.”

“Thor?” Dan splutters. “You named your dog after an Avenger?”

Phil nods seriously, unaffected by the reaction. “Yes. He’s small and grey and angry. His mood controls the weather, that’s why it rains really hard wherever we go on tour.”

Dan was obviously trying to hold back a smile when he said that, but two dimples pop out on his cheeks regardless. “That’s quite a special guy you’ve got there,” he remarks, seemingly impressed.

Before Phil can respond, he feels a vibration in his pocket. He takes his phone out and sees it’s a text from Sid.

_WHERE ARE YOU?_

_DONT JUST LEAVE WITHOUT TELLING ME_

_ >:( _

Sid’s most endearing quality is that he types as loud as he speaks. _HELLO. HOW ARE YOU? DRINK WATER. LOVE YOU, I GUESS._

Phil sighs before replying, _calm down. im with dan. dan howell, u know him? networking and all lol_

_MEET ME OUT THE BACK RIGHT NOW. WE’RE LEAVING_

He frowns at his screen and looks at Dan, whose eyes glint with confusion. “I have to go.” Phil mumbles. “My manager says it’s time to leave.”

Dan smiles kindly. “That’s fine. But so soon?”

Phil shrugs. “I have a flight to catch tomorrow.”

“Ah. Early morning?”

“Late afternoon.”

“Well. That’s too bad. I’ll maybe see you around.” Phil gives him a small wave and a goodbye before almost stalking off to the double doors of the hall. To be fair, he had every right to be annoyed. Just when he was starting to actually have fun at one of these bloody things…

Wait. Since when does Sid control anything Phil does or says? He stops midway out the door and sees Sid on the his phone, frowning and talking fast, gesticulating with his free hand. Phil doesn’t _need_ to do what he says. A pretty silly observation in hindsight, but a comforting thought at the time.

He turns right around and walks slowly through the crowd towards Dan, who hasn’t moved an inch. He stares as Phil saunters over, whilst dialling Sid’s number. He stops right in front of him and Sid picks up almost immediately.

“ _What’s taking you so long_?”

“I’m not coming. Have a good night, Sid.” Before any argument comes his way, Phil cuts the call and Dan smiles, amused.

Phil takes Dan’s hand in his - warm, immediately holds on tight - and pulls him closer. “So,” he says, “I was thinking we could go some place quieter, maybe?”

*

 **Dan Howl:** landing at heathrow tomorrow! am i seeing you at rehearsal or

 **Mystery Guy:** ofc even though idek why im nominated for an award im not releasing music until AUGUST

 **Dan Howl:** um. you’re phil lester?

 **Mystery Guy:** shut up oh my god

 **Dan Howl:** :)

*

The award show isn’t that important, really. He doesn’t _have_ to go. He’d be lying if he said the reason he was looking forward to it was anything but seeing Dan. They hadn’t met at all since the _last_ award show a few weeks ago. Their schedules just did not allow it. But they text almost all the time. At first, Phil thought he was getting annoying, even stopped texting first but then Dan would go, _hey u busy or smth??_ and it’d be okay.

He drives to the hotel all the celebrities are staying in to pick up John, his best friend in the business. They’ve known each other since Phil’s first ever international number one and John’s the only one he trusts with _everything_ . They’re both up against each other for an award and Phil’s sure John will win, considering it’s been two years since _he_ released any music and no one probably remembers the lyrics to it. Oh, well.

“Did you know that celebrity privilege isn't a thing in this hotel?” John starts off after Phil gives him a cheery 'good morning'.

“What happened now?” He asks curiously.

“Breakfast!” John spreads his arms wide in front of him. “I wanted the continental breakfast, _obviously_ , but I woke up _too late_.” He wrinkles his nose and then pouts, holding his stomach. "And now I'm hungry."

Phil laughs and says, “See, this is why you should've stayed with me. I would've given you something nice and homemade.”

“No _thanks_. You go overboard. Like, there’s continental and there’s your extra ass in the kitchen.”

“I’m too old to understand if being ‘extra’ is good or bad but your tone suggests the latter so I’m going to frown.”

John rolls his eyes. They step outside the hotel, and walk towards the parking lot where Phil’s car is. On the way, they see a small crowd gathered a little away from the entrance. Girls, mostly, flailing and recording someone talking to all of them.

Dan.

He’s laughing and hugging them, looking concerned at their tears, and taking pictures. Phil’s lips curl into a smile. It’s a familiar scene, except it’s Phil over there, doing all the things Dan is. He looks so at home and Phil, he _knows_ so well and the fact that Dan gets to experience it too makes him so happy.

“Your fond is suffocating me.” John tells him, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, we need to get to the arena!” He pulls Phil by the arm, and Dan and his fans disappear from view. "Wasn't fond," Phil mutters. John ignores him.

“You’ve only met him once, haven’t you?” He asks, as Phil starts the car.

“Mhm.”

“This is fast, even for you. I mean, with Adam, you met him once, wrote a six-minute ballad about how it was _enchanting_ to meet him, and then never moved forward with it. Like, you completely got over it after that. He wrote a song back!”

“He rewrote my song with a few changed lyrics.” Phil corrects him. “It was sweet.”

John throws his hands in the air. “Sweet! It was _sweet_ , was it? Well, you can’t have written a song about this guy yet, you’re still heart-eyesing him.”

John’s the only one who’s allowed to making song writing jokes to Phil directly and not face his wrath. So obviously he takes full advantage of it.

" _Please don’t be in love with someone else_ ,” John murmurs.

Phil groans.

The thing is, he _can’t_ date Dan, no matter what. He likes him alot, and he thinks Dan might reciprocate (although it’s hard to tell through text), but there’s _them_ . The Others. And there’s the thing about Dan apparently being extremely casual with dating. Phil doesn’t _do_ casual. He’s all in, always. Well, he wasn’t always. He’s not sure when commitment became his Thing. Probably when Ian said ‘I love you’. Oh, well. The point is, he can’t let Dan in and have his heart broken. Not when he likes Dan so much.

*

Rehearsal for most award shows goes something like this – you show up, you listen to what the assigned choreographer has to say, try and keep up, go back home. Needless to say, Phil is glad he doesn’t have to deal with it this time. His love for performing comes and goes, and it usually is at its highest during tour. Now, he’s strictly in writing mode and refuses to get on stage for anything.

He spends his time at the arena watching John practise. He’s opening the show with his single that he’s also nominated for.

Leeroy, his choreographer, is a funny little thing. He bounces around, excitedly explaining the act to John whilst wildly gesticulating risking seriously injuring the dancers' faces that would be unfortunate to come in the way.

“Okay, John, for the second chorus, I’d like you to kind of, strut down the catwalk like this…” John follows, making sure he’s walking in a straight line. “Yes, just like that, make sure to look straight at the person in front.”

“That’s me,” Phil says. “Make that sweet eye contact with me.”

“Oh boy, the cameras will _love_ that.” John replies, grinning.

Leeroy looks at them both, clearly confused. His brain is probably trying to figure out if this a scoop he’s just stumbled upon. _Phohn? Salester?_ They’ll come up with a name soon. Phil’s pretty sure there already _is_ one. There’s one for everyone Phil’s ever spoken to.

*

After rehearsal, Phil and John go back to the hotel to hang out for the rest of the day. It’s in the lobby that Phil encounters Dan for the second time that day. Phil’s eyes automatically rake over his form, taking in his shoulders which somehow make him look smaller usually but now are broad. His fringe is plastered to his forehead, gappy and curly. It’s really attractive, but Phil isn’t _attracted_ to Dan, if you get what he means. He’s objectively really good looking and Phil may have been slightly infatuated with him when they first met but that is all over. Probably.

“Wotcher, Dan,” John says.

Dan doesn’t reply. In fact, now that Phil pays attention, Dan looks really distressed. He steps forward and puts a hand on his arm, ignoring the little shocks of electricity zipping through him when he does. “What’s up?”

He looks up at them now, as if just realising they’re there and says slowly, “Pj Liguori is on the same floor as me.”

Phil grins. “Peej is here? Good,  I haven’t seen the fucker in _so long_.”

Dan stares at him like he’s an alien or something. “ _Pj Liguori_ , lead singer of Static Lies is staying _doors away from me_.” He elaborates unnecessarily, as if Phil was talking about a different Pj Liguori.

“I _know_ ,” he replies, in a similar tone.

“He’s like, a living legend!” Dan exclaims, clearly upset with Phil’s lack of enthusiasm.

“Hey, I thought that was me!” Phil couldn’t help the not very well hidden offence he felt.

“Phil, please. Listen. I can’t go back up there. We’re bound to run into each other at some point. I don’t want to be in the actual presence of Pj Liguori. I mean, sure, I’ve been to like, five Static Lies shows in my life? That doesn’t count though, we didn’t make eye contact ever -”

“I could introduce you.” Phil interrupts.

Dan’s eyes go wide. John looks from both of them and says, “Um, I don’t wanna be a part of this, so I’ll just…” and leaves in the lift, leaving just the two of them.

“C’mon.” Phil takes Dan by the arm and pulls him to the other lift, and presses the floor button. He’s still a little miffed by the ‘living legend’ comment. And Dan was never this starstruck by him.

Is he really going to be jealous about Dan Howell not being intimidated by him?

The light _ding_ takes him out of his trance and he has to practically drag Dan out. “ _Dan_ , he’s just a guy with cool hair and a sensual voice who you might be happy to know, he’s just as giant of a dork as you are,” Phil insists exasperatedly. “Now, come _on_.”

Dan huffs and allows himself to be pulled. “His room’s two doors on the right from mine.”

Phil grins cheekily and leads the way to 710. He knocks once, twice and calls, “Pj? Peej, it’s me!”

A few heartbeats later, the door opens and stood in all his messy curls and knit sweater aesthetic is Pj Liguori. He smiles at Phil and steps forward to engulf him in a hug like they’re old friends who haven’t seen each other in years (one of those is true). “Phil, it’s been way too long! Come in, come in. And you’ve brought a friend.” He looks at Dan questioningly, still smiling.

“Yeah, this is Dan Howell,” Phil replies, walking in. “You know, the newest hot piece of ass everyone loves.”

Dan glares at him from behind Pj, who only nods knowingly. Phil adds, “of course, he’s a lot better than the rest of them. And a huge fan of yours, he says.”

Pj’s face brightens up. “Really? Wow, hey, Dan! Phil made me sound like a complete dick who doesn’t like contemporary pop, but I assure you, I do. And I also trust him, so I will definitely check your music out so don’t like, hate me.”

Dan’s face resembles a cherry tomato at this point. “Thanks,” he says softly, stuttering slightly. Phil can’t decide if he’s enjoying seeing Dan this flustered or if he’s just lowkey jealous of the kind of attention he’s giving Pj that he never gave to him.

Suddenly, his phone rings. It’s Sid and he really doesn’t want to answer, but he does. “Sid, what’s up?” He says, skipping out on pleasantries.

“What’s up?” comes the reply, always with the slightly impatient tinge. “Did you forget about the album shoot meeting?”

 _Oh, shit_. “I’m coming right, over, give me like ten minutes tops.” He hangs up before Sid can comment on his tardiness and looks at Pj and Dan. “Guys, I have to go to a uh, meeting,” he says, pointing to the door and backing towards it. “You have fun.”

Before Dan can protest - and Phil can tell he was going to - Pj puts an arm around his shoulder and says, “Sure! Me and Dan can bond while you’re gone.”

Phil shrugs. “That’s fine. See you.” He waves and leaves the room, confused by the fire pit in his stomach.

*

“He’s glorious.” Dan says, falling back onto the couch in Phil’s suite the next evening. They couldn’t see each other due to their busy schedules but Dan wanted to talk about Pj for the entire night.

“You’re acting like you had sex with him,” is the only response Phil gives.

“Well…”

“Dan!”

He laughs, hand covering his mouth. “Okay, no that didn’t happen. But we talked about music and how much it’s changed the world and how it’s changed _us_ and God, Phil, he is just so brilliant.”

“That’s great,” Phil murmurs, sat next to him now, poring over his notes.

“You alright?”

“Mhm. Why’d you ask?” He doesn’t notice Dan take something out of his bag and doesn’t notice how eerily quiet it’s gotten and doesn’t notice Dan has a camera pointed at him until a flash goes off. “WHAT THE FUCK OH MY GOD - _Dan_.” He glares at the brunet who just laughs at his face, clutching at his stomach. “I thought a pap got into the room, you moron.”

Dan wipes an imaginary tear from his eye and replies, “Honestly, how do you think that could happen?”

Phil huffs, but doesn’t reply. This time he sees Dan raise his camera again and immediately grabs a cushion to hide his face. “No. Way.”

“ _Phiiiil_! We could do this all night. I just want one!”

Phil peeks out from the cushion he was hid behind and says, “No. And it’s not like there’s a shortage of my face in photograph form.”

“Yeah, but none of them are candid.” Dan reasons. “I’d like the press to see the Real Phil Lester. Capital R, P and L. You know?”

Phil raises an eyebrow and Dan grins at him before pointing his camera at him and taking a picture. “HA! Oh my gosh, your face looks fucking priceless. I’m keeping this for myself, I think.”

Phil reaches for the camera but Dan just pulls away, and he finds himself sort of sprawled on his body, struggling to reach it. Dan’s face is right under his. He looks down at him and he has a big, stupid grin on his face, all dimples and no teeth. Phil sighs, and retreats and falls onto him as gracefully as he can, head nestled in the crook of his neck. He feels his arm snake around his waist.

“This is nice,” he murmurs. Phil hums in response and closes his eyes.

“Wait.” Phil lifts himself up. “I have my Polaroid camera. We need one of them, we don’t have one together.” He walks to the work desk where his pastel blue instant camera was kept.

Dan rolls his eyes. “Well, I mean, polaroids get destroyed after a while, unlike digital photos.” He gestures at his own camera. Phil ignores him and slips back close next to him. Dan smells like aftershave, and a hint of cinnamon, a surprisingly good combination. Phil can feel his collar bones on his back and his chest rising and falling against him. He swallows, trying to ignore the flipping act his heart is performing and hands the camera to Dan.

“Here. _You_ take it, since you’re so professional.”

Dan sticks his tongue out at him, but complies. As he points the camera lens at them, Phil feels soft lips on his left cheek, and has to try very hard not to let his expression drop, even though he feels like dying on the inside. He wonders if there will ever come a time when Dan won’t make him feel lightheaded. Probably not.

There’s a flash and a picture ready to be developed is already waiting for them. In the picture, Phil was showing off his teeth, as he always did. Dan’s eyes were closed and he was kissing Phil on the cheek, obviously. Phil feels his cheeks flush red and he looks at Dan as the other boy smiles softly at the picture.

“I’ll keep this one too, if you don’t mind,” he whispers. He coughs and continues, “I have to tell you something…”

And then Phil’s phone starts ringing. He inhales sharply, and stutters a, “I-I’m sorry, uh,” before backing away and rejecting the call without seeing who it was. “What were you saying?”

Dan smiles at him. “Nothing, it’s not...I’ll tell you later. We need to get ready for the big night.”

*

Phil has to do all he can to not stand up and jump around like one of Dan’s fangirls (Dangirls?) when the host announces that he’s performing next. He could do composed. He _could._

“Get that shit-eating grin off your face, Phil Lester,” John whispers in his ear. Phil huffs, and tries to swallow the smile. Being him has its perks. He gets front row in almost every award ceremony – “because you’re constantly going onstage to collect awards,” John points out – and he can usually convince the planners to let his friends sit next to him. “You’re making it _really_ obvious.”

“Making what obvious?” Phil smiles, like he’s genuinely confused about what John is saying. He rolls his eyes. “I’m simply appreciating the industry’s next hot thing and his _revolutionary_ music.”

Before John can reply the lights dim and the host is announcing the next act, “He’s the hottest thing on the scene this year! Boys better hold on to your girlfriends, because DAN HOWELL IS _HERE_.”

Screaming. Some crying. Applause. Whistles. Lights flash on stage as the familiar beginning riffs play. A silhouette walks onto the centre of the stage and Dan appears out of the shadows and Phil’s heart swells with…pride? He doesn’t know, but he immediately has to look down to grin widely because he’s _there_ and Phil knows he sees him, he _is_ right in front and John nudges him hard.

Dan has the stage presence of an experienced performer and it’s hard to tell that he’s currently on his first tour and he’s done only done a few live shows like this. He has the audience eating right out of his hand as he saunters around the stage, singing words about a certain someone breaking his heart and sings the bridge, ‘ _look what you’ve done, you’ve made a mess and I still wouldn’t hate you_.’ It’s not a sad song. It’s actually quite anthemic and the fans in the standing are stomping their feet. Celebrities all around Phil are dancing along too and John and he exchange a glance. He shrugs and they stand and join them, singing the words to each other.

Phil keeps looking to where Dan is, waving at fans, touching their hands, and blowing kisses. Between verses, he fixes his hair – typical mannerisms coming out – and licks his lips. The song ends on an explosive note, fireworks spurting out from the edges of the stage. “Thank you, London!” Dan shouts, before running offstage, leaving behind dazed spectators – Phil included – coming down from a high only he could create. He was amazing, a natural entertainer. He basically has Phil wrapped around his finger already.

*

Phil is sipping on some champagne when Dan walks up to him at the after party, later on in the evening.

A waiter comes up to them and offers Dan a glass for himself, which he takes, thanks the guy with a smile and turns to Phil. “So,” he says. Sip. “How’d I do?”

“Oh, five out of ten,” Phil replies, waving his free hand. “Could’ve been flashier, to be honest.” He looks over his glass as he drinks at Dan’s offended expression and chuckles (making himself dribble; idiot).

“W-Well, I mean, we can’t _all_ \--” Dan starts to say and Phil full on laughs and pats him on the shoulder.

“You were so great, Dan, really,” he says, smiling. “Fuck you for being so extra with the lights and the sparkly jacket. The crowd loved it, and you. ” He tugs on the sleeve of said sparkly silver jacket which he now notices has literal individual sequins all over it.

Dan’s face glows and Phil feels warm inside because he caused that in some capacity.

*

Maybe it’s because he’s lost count of how many glasses of champagne he’s had or it’s just Dan’s natural charm reaching the surface, but Phil cannot stop laughing. He finds himself gravitating towards the brunet and staying there, touching his arm and fixing his own fringe every five minutes, giving other people the cold shoulder when they walk over for a chat themselves. They’re not even in the thick of the party; as per usual for the two of them, they occupy a dark corner of the room, away from the hustle and bustle.

“It’s late, we should get back.” Dan says, when the conversation halts. Phil feels his heart sink because that means he has to go back to his flat and leave Dan to go back to his place. But maybe…

“You could come over.” Phil blurts. “I - I mean, it’s not _that_ late, and I’m not tired and I live closer anyway, we could…” he pauses. “Chill. Or something.” _Something_. Yeah, he has a couple of ideas for that.

A ghost of a smile flickers on Dan’s lips, and he replies, “Uh, okay then. Lead the way, Mister Award of Excellence.”

Phil rolls his eyes, but his insides squeal in delight as he leads the way out of the throng of bodies and out the back exit.

On the way, he feels Dan next to him like he’s never felt him before - his _presence_ , his cologne, a musky, vanilla scent. Very Dan. He glances every so often, at Dan’s smallest movement; a twitch of his hand, a fix of his bowtie. He has to bite his lower lip to stop from smiling because he can sense Dan doing the same thing to him.

The chauffeur stops in front of Phil’s apartment and as soon as he leaves, Phil grabs Dan’s hand and runs up the stairs to his flat.

“ _Phil_ ,” Dan practically squeals, “what’s the rush?”

“I like being inside.” Phil replies, not even thinking about what he’s saying anymore. He unlocks his front door and pushes it open to his dark empty flat. All he can digest is that Dan is _there_ , in his home, on his invitation at this hour, and Phil knew the moment he asked that this wasn’t innocent, so Dan also should know that this isn’t innocent and so he turns to look at him and when he sees the glint in Dan’s eye, he’s relieved and the tiny voice in his head telling him over and over again, _don’t do it, do not do this Phil, are you listening, he’s going to hurt you I don’t know how but he will_

“So.” Phil says.

“So.” Dan says, his dimple popping out.

The only illumination in the room is from the streetlight directly outside the window, the golden light hitting their faces. Dan is about a centimetre taller than Phil; all he has to do is step right into his space and maybe tiptoe a little and. And.

“Hi.” Dan whispers. His hand comes up to touch Phil’s cheek.

Phil responds by closing the distance between them and yeah maybe it’s impulsive, and maybe he shouldn’t do it, considering who they _are_ , who Dan apparently is, and the voice in his head but in the moment, his feelings for Dan are clear, overwhelming and overpowering every single rational thought in his head and Phil kisses him.

It’s slow; agonizingly so. But Dan’s hand ends up on the small of his back and Phil’s leaning as close to him as physically possible, and his hands are in Dan’s hair, and maybe it’s because Phil’s a hopeless romantic with the mentality of an 80 year old; suddenly the world seems monochrome but them and that’s all that matters.

*

 **@cmonhowell:** oh my god!!!! phil lester was dancing to dan performing!! my two faves???

 **@narcoticsphil:** @AmazingPhil dad pls be friends with dan howell i need this in my life

 

* * *

 

**_they loved each other recklessly_** **.**

 

“Oh, mister _Lester_ ,” Dan drawls, rolling his eyes upward, hand on his chest, pretending to faint in awe of Phil. His laugh echoes through the hotel room - _their_ hotel room. It’s actually Phil’s, and Dan has his own two floors up, but he never even got there because Phil had him in a tight embrace and led him into his own suite the night before.

They’re in New York for an event, have been for a few days, where Phil had been honoured with an award for his charity work throughout the years and he’d been 70% nerves before going on, but seeing Dan in the audience calmed him down some.

Phil’s sitting on top of him, leaning on his thighs, and he hits him on the chest. He snorts and says, “Been more charitable than you have recently.”

Dan frowns and replies, “Hey, I’m just getting started. You wait. I’ll make a difference in many lives someday.”

Phil leans down and hovers above Dan and runs his hands through his hair, slick from their previous…activities. “I was kidding, babe,” Phil whispers, “you’re such a good person. You’ll take over the world.” He kisses his forehead, and then his nose and then his lips. “So good.”

“Thanks – ow, Phil I –” He groans because Phil had nipped at his right shoulder and was sucking on his slightly tanned skin, still sensitive from before. He lays his head on Dan’s chest, right over his heart, breathing in deep as he hears the steady _thump thump thump_.

“Australia is _too far_.” He complains. “And then you’re back in New York the second I leave from here and obviously fly to London the day _I_ go to Paris.”

“I know, I know, I know.” Dan replies, and he kisses Phil softly. It’s a peck, habitual, warm. He sighs. “This tour is ruining my _life_.”

Phil rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, right. You _love_ tour. Don’t deny it.” It’s true. Dan’s eyes light up when he talks about each crowd in every city and Phil can relate. He knows what it’s like and he’s so happy Dan gets to feel like he does on stage, looking out at thousands of people who took the time out to see _him_ and listen to what he has to say and sing his words back to him and –

He can’t wait to do it soon too.

Dan chuckles and smiles apologetically. “Okay, yeah. You have some competition there. But seriously, Australia _is_ too far. And the time is all alien.”

Phil cups his face in his hands and kisses his nose. “Well, I hope they’re ready for you.”

*

“ _Phiiiil_ ,” Dan moans.

“Five more minutes,” Phil moans back, clinging harder to Dan’s waist.

“The papers were right about you. _Clingy_.”

Phil opens one eye and scowls at Dan’s cheeky grin. “You’ll pay for that.” He threatens, sitting up, one hand still holding onto Dan.

“Phil, c’mon, my flight’s in four hours, I need to be at the airport -”

Phil kisses him to shut him up. “ _Go_ , leave me in a hotel room, the papers were right about _you_ too…”

“Oi!”

Phil sighs dramatically. “Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.” A laugh is bubbling inside him but he manages to retain his hurt expression. Dan just stares at him, shaking his head.

“You are unbelievable.”

Phil winks at him. “I know, you told me last night.”

“ _Un - fucking - believable_.” He does get up and walk straight into the shower. Phil covers himself up completely in the blanket and breathes in the scent deeply. He can smell both of them, a mixture of his own earthy scented cologne and Dan’s aftershave and it shouldn’t work but it does. _They_ work.

Dan comes out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, and another he’s drying his hair with.

“Hiya, Dan _Towel_ ,” Phil says, grinning, proud of his pun.

Dan rolls his eyes, ignoring him, and opens the wardrobe. “Your clothes aren’t in there.” Phil remarks.

“I know.” He flips through the hung tops that belong to Phil. Finally, he decides on one and pulls it out. It’s a light blue t-shirt with little white paper airplanes all over it. It’s new and Phil’s never worn it. “This is nice.” He wears it and it fits him snugly, sagging slightly at the shoulders but otherwise fine. “It feels nice.”

“Doesn’t smell like me though,” Phil says. He gets off the bed and walks to Dan. Tip-toeing to reach his height - only a few inches - he wraps his arms around his shoulders and kisses him. He pushes himself right against Dan, so much so that he backs right into the wardrobe. He tastes like mint toothpaste and his hair like hotel shampoo. It’s soft between Phil’s fingers and he doesn’t want to let go ever.

A phone rings. Dan mutters, “That’s me,” against Phil’s lips. Phil makes a noise of disapproval but lets go. So much for that.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way there, I’m literally in the car,” Dan’s saying, trying to put on his jeans with one hand and hold his phone with the other. Phil giggles quietly and shakes his head. “Yeah, see you Allen.” He hangs up and pulls his jeans up. Walking back to where Phil is stood, he grabs his suitcase by the handle and picks up his rucksack from behind him and kisses Phil on the forehead.

“ _R_ _eally_ need to go now.” He whispers.

“ _Really_ wish you didn’t.”

“Me too.” Dan sighs and pushes Phil’s fringe out of his face. “It’s so weird.” He says softly.

“What is?” Phil asks, but he’s concentrating on the warmth on his forehead where Dan touched it with his lips and fingers.

“I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, but also I don’t know you at all.”

*

The first thing Dan does when he lands in Sydney is call Phil.

“Hey,” comes his croaky voice as soon as Phil picks up. “I can’t feel any part of myself.”

“Long flights do that to tall guys like us,” Phil replies sympathetically, fighting a smile.

He’s having brunch with John, who’s telling him _all_ about Dan’s fling just three months ago with Angelina-something, but truth be told he wasn’t listening in the first place. They’re not serious. Well, not officially. They’ve spent a lot of time together. That doesn’t _mean_ anything. They’re attracted to each other and sure, that has some weight, but Dan hasn’t said anything about a relationship. Besides, if Phil sat down and thought about everything, a relationship with Dan would mean so many things. He’s a new artist, and already blowing up the scene. Phil is a big deal, if he says so himself. So if they were to be together _in the public eye_ , they could say goodbye to all means of privacy. There’s no telling what the line is when it comes to the press’s questions about celebrities’ personal lives.

John snatches the phone from Phil in the middle of his sentence and says to Dan, “hey, it’s John. Phil’s kinda busy spending some quality time with his _best friend_ that I, for some crazy reason, had to fight for. Any idea why that would be, Daniel?” He pauses, while Phil stares at him exasperatedly.

John hums, nods thoughtfully and sighs before handing Phil back his phone. “He’s got you.” He says dramatically, looking up at the sky. “I can’t save you. Either of you.”

Phil rolls his eyes. “What’d you tell him?” he asks Dan.

“That I promise to take care of you. That I promise to take you out on many quality dates when we’re together again.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Yeah. Okay.

*

The thing is, Phil knows things about Dan. Or well, he’s heard things about him. That he’s not about commitment. That he jumps from bed to bed to bed. He doesn’t care who it is. Half of his ‘relationships’ are just professional.

But the thing is - _Dan_.

He texts Phil whenever he’s free, and they Skype sometimes so he can elaborately explain how fucking _cool_ Australia really is and how much he loves tour and performing and even with the low quality pixelly camera, he can see how genuine Dan is and he can’t help but wonder how someone so dedicated and _good_ can be the subject of tabloid gossip and lies. How someone like Dan could be anywhere near that part of their world.

Dan is like a force; he pulls Phil in with every word, every movement, every note he sings. And he’s _new_. And it’d be wrong of him to hope, after being so very disappointed so very many times, but he still hopes that this time is different. With Dan, it might be different.

And say they were right about him. That the Dan that Phil sees is just a facade. Phil’s afraid of that, because he can hear himself telling Dan to stay. Stay, stay, _stay_. He’s afraid that he might _like_ this slippery slope of not knowing who Dan Howell really is. Because, really, it’s only been a few weeks. Phil’s been in enough relationships to know what it’s like to be fooled (his music is just him recording all those experiences so that he never forgets).

So he calls Winston Handler and suddenly there’s two more songs on his new album due to come out in six months.

 

* * *

 

 

**_they paid the price._ **

 

The bad news comes in the form of a phone call from John.

“I didn’t want to be the one to tell you…” He starts.

Phil raises his eyebrow and fits his phone between his ear and right shoulder as he pours cake batter into the baking tray. “What’s up?”

“Have you looked at Twitter or any social media today? Because –”

Phil rolls his eyes. “What are they saying now?”

“Dan, he – um, he was seen with someone?”

He huffs. “ _Please_. They always do that. They did when we were both in New York and he met with Louise Pentland, remember? They were writing together! Not to mention he came back to the hotel to have mind blowing sex with me.”

He could _feel_ John cringe on the other side of the line. “Thanks for that,” he grumbles, “but this is different. There are pictures and –”

“What? Are they looking at each other?” Phil interrupts sarcastically.

“Phil. They were kissing.”

*

Dan comes back to London three days later. He texts Phil that he's coming over as soon as he settles back into UK time. Phil scoffs. He'd like to see Dan try to come over. He'd like to see him smile and pretend he hadn't done anything, pretend he didn't make Phil feel special before he left him in a hotel room and probably did the same to someone else. He feels so _stupid_ ; just because the press is wrong about a few people doesn't mean they don't get something right occasionally. He never thought they'd be _this_ right.

Yeah, Phil would like to see Dan try.

*

"Phil! There's no key under the carpet, open up!"

He walks slowly to his door, wanting to make him wait. When he opens the door, he expects something to have changed. But Dan looks the same, warm brown eyes twinkling, dimple prominent, hair curling at the tips of his fringe. "Hi you." His arms are spread wide, coming towards Phil. He doesn't make contact though, because Phil turns, closing the door behind them.

"Hey." He has to literally force himself not to spit the word out in spite.

"God, I missed this place," Dan continues, seemingly not bothered by Phil's cold welcome. "You didn't call back when I got to the airport."

 _I know_. "Woke up late, felt too lazy. Sorry."

"That's...fine." Finally, he's noticing. "Is something wrong?"

Phil wants to laugh. _No, there isn't anything wrong, except you came along, made me fall in fucking_ love _with you and left to kiss someone else. There isn't anything wrong because you do that all the time_.

"Everything's fine." He says. He gets himself a glass of water. "How was Australia?" He looks back at Dan as the latter's eyes light up at the mention of the country.

"Oh my god, Phil you were so right about the crowds there, they were so _loud_ , and everyone was so nice, and the interviewers had such good senses of humour, unlike the American ones, Jesus -"

"What about Riley?"

Dan's expression falls. "Wh-what?"

Phil smiles at him, but it isn't genuine. It's practically a sneer. "Isn't that the name of the model you were hanging out with there?"

"Oh, um -"

"Look." He looks Dan in the eye. "Don't even try denying it or explaining yourself. I saw the pictures and if they weren't there, maybe I would've given you a chance. Goodbye, Dan."

Dan just stares at him. He says slowly, "Phil, you need to listen. I only did that to protect _us_."

Phil scoffs. "Yeah, _okay._ "

"It's true!" Dan insists. He walks towards Phil who takes a few steps back. Dan sees this and his expression is one of hurt. He takes a deep breath in and continues, "Some interviewer asked about us, alright, and I was _scared_ and Allen told me going out with that guy would divert their attention, and - and I didn't even know he would kiss me! It just...happened, it wasn't planned - you have to have _believe_ me."

Phil wants to. Dan’s aghast expression seems honest enough. But he thinks, if Dan felt the same way about him, he would've preferred to have told the whole world about them.

"Why didn't you tell them about us?" He asks.

Dan looks confused. "I - what? Phil, I thought we agreed -"

And that's when Phil realises. Dan _doesn't_ feel the same way. He doesn't love Phil. Didn't miss him as much as Phil did him while they were away. He doesn't want the world to see how good they are together, they fit so well. That's fine.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave." He says quietly.

"Not before you explain." Dan's voice is raised now. He's clearly annoyed by Phil's change of heart. But he can't let him know. It would make things his fault. And it _isn't_ his fault. It's Dan's.

"I don't have to explain anything to you. Now, _leave_ before I feel compelled to get security to escort you out. That would mean getting Riley here so you can suck her face off to _divert their attention_ , right? Or maybe they'll get someone else. They seem to like change things up."

" _Phil_." He tries to come towards Phil again but Phil stumbles backwards.

"Fuck. _Off_."

Dan's expression changes. He scowls and says voice dripping with venom, "You know, they all say you're insane. Paranoid, changing your mind every other minute. Possessive, neurotic. I didn't believe them. Defended you sometimes, even before I met you. Regret that. You're a fucking _asshole_."

"Yeah, well you're exactly the manwhore they said you were!" Phil all but shouts. He never shouts. It feels good to yell. Let all the emotion out.

Dan apparently has nothing to say to that. He turns on his heels and stalks to the door.

He doesn't turn back to look at Phil.


	2. II. back from the dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~in an alternate world where taylor swift does not exist~~ it isn’t easy singing your feelings to the whole world. ask phil lester; he would know better than anyone else. and it isn’t his fault he has a lot of feelings. it isn’t his fault he likes writing them down and it isn’t his fault that people seem to relate to him. he could never in his wildest dreams imagined one quite like dan howell to change his mind about everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry

**II. back from the dead**

 

**_the boy danced to forget him;_ **

 

**Phil and William: Sealed with a kiss**

_Phil Lester confirmed he is dating the 8th Duke of Devonshire, William Cavendish after they were spotted kissing in Ambleside._

_The pair looked cosy and were seen hand-in-hand and kissing in full view of onlookers as they strolled along Lake Windermere on Friday._

_Speculation surrounded the nature of the_ Get Along _hitmaker’s relationship with the photographer after they were spotted holding hands at the Cavendish family compound in Cartmel_.

*

The typical 80’s romantic film involves two people who meet. They’re polar opposites of each other, one uptight, serious with the hopes of someday being extraordinary. The other, wild, reckless, the life of every single party, hoping to leave a mark on the world after they die. these two characters meet and against all odds, fall in love. They are each other’s Person. Together, they rule the world from the top where no one can see them and it’s their little secret, this life together, whispers and surreptitious touches in the dark. But something’s lurking in the corners, waiting to strike. Something to burst their personal bubble. And then it happens. _POP_! And they fall, fall headlong to the ground and oh god, they’ve made a mess, but who popped the bubble that only they knew of? A hooded figure walks to them, seemingly innocent, and points to one who would one day leave their mark on the earth, not knowing the consequences.

Screaming. Crying. Perfect storms.

They fight, and how could the story not make sense? Being the one with no inhibitions, it would make sense that they would pop the bubble _just to see what happens_. And so the two go their separate ways. Things are left unsaid, and what’s the point anyway? What could be achieved by saying anything now?

*

“William! Put me down, you’ll break your back!”

Phil knows he’s not light as a feather. He’s a fully grown twenty two year old man, for god’s sake. And it doesn’t matter if his boyfriend is a pro rugby player, he’s still British nobility and if he injured himself because of Phil, he could say goodbye to actual afternoon teas and horseback rides (even though he doesn’t enjoy the rides that much; but he’s too scared to tell William’s grandmother Esther that).  

William laughs his loud laugh, where he really opens his mouth, like he’s on the top of the world (in his case, he kind of is), and sets Phil down. He crosses his arms at his boyfriend, a whole head taller than him, his unruly curls falling onto his eyes. “Thanks,” Phil says, deadpan. William returns his expression with a dimpled smile and Phil has to turn away before his thoughts strung together to lead to the place he didn't want to.

William's slightly perfect. _Too_ perfect, if that can be a thing. He has freckles on his nose and eyes green like the sea. Phil had spent too many embarrassing mornings waking up next to him and spending it observing his calm demeanour. How, even after a month, he's still the same as the first day, just as charming and kind.

He takes Phil's hand now and leads him back to the house.

It's huge, and only one wing is accessible to the family, since it's also a tourist attraction. Phil's only ever been there once. It was actually how he met William - as a tourist. Brokenhearted about recent events with a certain person whose name rhymes with hand towel, it was like William Cavendish was a knight in shining armour (except in this case, it was highly likely). He'd snuck up  behind Phil and taken a picture. Before Phil could object or call his security, the Duke politely explained himself and apologized. After a while, Phil started noticing little things about him, one being that he was _definitely_ flirting as the day passed on.

William’s bedroom is very away from everyone else’s rooms. Which is why it’s a great place to have sex with him.

Phil pulls him inside and shuts the door behind them, grabbing his boyfriend by his curly hair - _his wet, natural curly hair not been straightened, easily gripped in Phil’s hands_ \- no, no, no - and pulling him down for a kiss.

“Mm, Phil, I -” William laughed against his mouth as Phil tried to unbutton his shirt but failed in his hastiness.

“What?” Phil pulls away and smiles sweetly. Will’s lips are already plump and he looks _so_ familiar and he needs to _stop this_.

“We had sex this _morning_.” William says, almost like he’s scolding Phil. “At this rate, you’d be classified an addict.”

Phil rolls his eyes and places both his hands on the taller one’s chest and pushes him onto the bed. He topples over, going, “ _Phiiiiil_ ”  in the process. Phil hops onto his lap and says, “Shhh.”

Everyone knows, of course. They hold hands, kiss, go on boat rides, swim, take pictures with the locals and tourists all in clear view of _them_. The media, press, paparazzi. They somehow find Phil everywhere and at this point he’s not surprised. Still. He’s got to applaud their persistence to get in on the smallest of details. What they had for lunch. Whether he’s wearing designer swimming trunks. Is it serious? Vital information to be splashed across pages of tabloids.

*

The end of the holiday is marked with announcements of the new album, _Scattered_. His fourth record. Already breaking pre-sale records. Crazy times. Sid insists on a celebration and so it shall be.

William stays back in Cartmel for work reasons, so he isn’t joining as Phil’s right-hand man. He’s not sure his almost-royalty boyfriend would fit in with the crowd he’s usually with. So maybe it’s good.

Being back in London makes him feel like there’s routine in his life again. It’s home and it’s where everything is set. Wake up at this time, go to a meeting at this place, have drinks with these people, _do not think about him, do not think about him, do not think about him_.

It’s a small club, Sid wanting to keep everything lowkey, but already there’s people who the paparazzi would go half-crazy to spot also trying to be lowkey and have a good evening of just drinks, and maybe a casual fuck.

John’s there, already on the dancefloor, moving it like he knows what that does to girls (he does but insists he has no idea _what_ Phil is ever on about). Phil had never been much of a dancer, except for when Ian pulled him onto the floor and guided him. Except for in shows where he’s in the audience and the lights aren’t on him.

So instead, Phil indulges in wine and small talk. He’s got a small group of admirers (friends, friends, friends, remember to call them that) and he tells them stories from the past seven years. They ask him about the new album, he smiles slyly. They ask about William too, ask if there’s songs about him on the record even though they only just got together. There actually is, a duet with Peej. They connected on a whole new level with song writing; it was like Pj understood exactly everything about Phil’s life. He didn’t, but in no time, he had everything deciphered pretty accurately. Phil was impressed, they had a song ready in about ten minutes.

He’s in the middle of explaining that Pj had a great taste in guitars and ukuleles and burger stuffings when his gaze falls on a figure at the entrance of the club. He freezes, his words melting in his throat.

Dan doesn’t look drastically different from how he did four months ago. He’s wearing [ a black jumper with a flowery pattern on it ](http://40.media.tumblr.com/90d6104abee598ce7df407f1084d2c63/tumblr_npdih3uOLx1uq4vfjo6_400.png) that as always fits him perfectly, making his shoulders seem broader than they actually are (Phil would know). Only his hair is now slightly shorter, the fringe is neater, and his small ears are only just visible. He still uses his hands to gesticulate while talking, animatedly, eyes shining because he’s just that excited about whatever it is. He towers above the people he’s with, much like Phil.

It’s been four months. Surely he could handle being in the same room as him. And it’s not like he’s here for Phil. Everyone comes here. Yeah.

One of the people he’s talking to just asked him something. What did he say? It doesn’t matter, because Phil is already taking unsteady steps across the floor. He needs to leave. It’s been four months, sure, but he still can’t do it. Sid calls to him, he can hear a faint, “Phil! Where’re you _going_?”

Somewhere else. _Anywhere_ else. He can’t be seen. The little voice in his head asks if it’s necessary, if it’s the mature thing to do. The slightly louder voice drowns these questions and tells Phil to _run, run before you he sees you_!

The biting London air hits him as he gets out, the streets much emptier than before. September breeze at the end of August. He stops, takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes. It’s no use; Dan’s face is engraved upon his mind all over again. Four months it took him, four months of overthinking and defending and doubting himself, a constant circle. Until he met William, he was pretty much a mess and who would’ve thought that was even possible? It’s not like Dan and him even shared something special - Dan didn’t think so anyway. It was just a few surreptitious kisses, flirty texts and glances across rooms, two nights in a hotel room and Phil was stupid to think that he could fall in love. Maybe it was his fault for cutting Dan off completely, not clarifying the latter’s feelings for him. Then maybe he wouldn’t have wished for being on the flight to Australia with him, holding his hand, sleeping on his shoulder, taking walks around Sydney, watching Dan swallow all the sights for the first time like he does. Then he wouldn’t have been surprised about the pictures of him with that model.

Then he wouldn’t be here.

Phil isn’t angry anymore, he decides as he drives back home to his flat. He isn’t. He’s tired of _feeling_ , and feeling so much all the time, and he wants to stop. A small part of him still blames Dan. In such a short amount of time, he did so much. He gave Phil a new perspective on love. _Love_ .  Was that even what that was? When Phil was with him he didn’t want to be anywhere else, when he was gone, he wanted to be in his arms, have him play with his hair, take his picture when he wasn’t looking. He got Phil on so many levels. They were _so good together_. Would’ve been. They really weren’t anything. A few nights in a hotel room. Surreptitious glances across rooms. Subtle flirting mistaken for appreciation by everyone else.

The flat feels even colder than when he’d left it. The radiator probably doesn’t work anymore. Just great. This is turning out to be a great evening. Announce new album, almost run into an old-could’ve-been-an-ex, come home to die from the cold.

He isn’t sleepy though. It’s way past midnight and all he wants to do is lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. Instead, he gets out his earphones and puts them on. Thor pads along to him and rubs himself against Phil’s ankles.

“Hey little buddy.” Phil says, bending to pet the pup’s head. He presses the play button on his phone screen and immediately _A Life in A Day_ from the _Looper_ soundtrack comes on.

Phil’s always been a huge fan of instrumental music. Dan was intrigued by it. “You write words so beautifully, I always took you for a lyrics kinda guy,” he’d admitted.

“Instruments just have more feeling than words do,” Phil had explained. He was never sure what that meant when he said it, but now it’s making sense. It’s the same as how pictures speak a thousand words; the soft _ting_ of an acoustic guitar represents joy, the piano sadness, drums energy. They all come together, coexist, make you feel louder than you do.

It certainly feels like he’s had a life in a day.

Thor keeps circling Phil’s ankle which probably means he wants food. “Isn’t there any milk in your bowl?” Phil asks, walking into the kitchen.

Thor only mews, and having had him for over a year, Phil likes to think they have an understanding between each other. He pours some warm milk into the pup’s monogrammed bowl and leaves him to lap it up.

He doesn’t turn the lights of his room on and strips down to his boxers on the way to his too-large bed. He doesn’t need to look at the time to know what it is - the feeling of 2AM is one he’s very familiar with.

He stares at the window curtains blowing slightly against the breeze coming in. Headlights pass the window pane, and Phil thinks of Dan.

It’s been a while and Phil hasn’t thought of Dan in any way since he met William - until tonight. He was just there, just like he was just there at his doorstep in LA four months ago. Like he hadn’t done anything wrong. How did he manage that?

But now Phil has William, he has a new album almost ready to be released to the world, he’s entered a new era, the next chapter of his life, of which Dan isn’t a part of anymore. He’s forgiven him, but hasn’t forgotten. Maybe the next time he sees Dan, he’ll tell him that. Walk up to him, William on his arm, smile at him and tell him he’s having the time of his life. Yeah, that would give him the closure he needed.

And yet, a teeny voice inside his head insists what he really wants is for Dan to be at the door right that moment, there to tell Phil he was sorry, that he missed Phil and he wanted to be with him.

This feels like that part of the movie where the hurt person is tired. Tired of fighting, of being mad. They wish for everything to be over, to have their Person come back. What were they even fighting about? It isn’t important, because Phil misses Dan. He really, really wishes he didn’t. But he does. He wants the light outside to be Dan’s car, wants him to knock on the door, he wants to invite him in, touch his cheek, tell him it’s all good.

Phil shuts his eyes and turns over, willing that thought to go the fuck away.

* * *

 

 ** _he drove past the boy’s window each night_ ** **.**

 

Dan’s head is swimming slightly, not because of the minute amount of alcohol he’s consumed, but because someone’s just told him Phil Lester was at the club just five minutes ago and no one knew until he left.

“I want to leave,” he tells Allen, who looks at him concerned.

“We just got here.” He protests, but it’s weak, as if it doesn’t matter if Dan stays or not, Allen isn’t letting his night off go to waste.

Dan shrugs. “I dunno, maybe I don’t feel like being out tonight. Might tuck in early.”

“It’s almost two.”

“Exactly.”

He drives slowly to Soho, with a few people in their own cars to keep him company. He resonates with the fatigue they must be feeling. He’s been in and out of the studio for days, writing and recording for his second album, and he has to meet up with Pj Liguori (a dream come true) in the morning for a writing session. They’d gotten very close in the five months they’d known each other (Dan tries not to think about who _else_ Pj wrote with on a certain record to be released in a month or so).

The streets of his neighbourhood are eerily quiet. They’re empty save for a few teenagers in the odd alley having a sneaky smoke. Dan scoffs. Since when did smoking in the twenty first century become cool? He immediately eats up the thought though, because Chris smokes, and the way he explained it, how smoking is a coping mechanism for some people and they _know_ it isn’t good for them, but they can’t just stop if they want to.

Phil was in the same room as him. He was _there_ and Dan didn’t know. Fuck, he hasn’t seen Phil in person for four months. What if he had seen him tonight? What would he have said or done? Say sorry? Before, Dan thought he had nothing to apologise for. Now he wants to because he wants _Phil_. He wants him back, be with him, have everyone know, show him off. But Phil is with someone else now. A nobleman, if Dan had heard correctly. Good for him.

The thing is, Dan’s feelings for Phil could never go away. He’d never connected with someone in so little time like he did with Phil. He wasn’t just one of Dan’s ‘conquests’. What they had - could’ve had - was much more, _so_ much more special than that. He could easily see himself falling in love with him.

 _That could be it_ , the voice in his head says. _Have you ever thought about it_?

Dan’s never been in love. He doesn’t know what love is. Is it talking to them and knowing exactly what they’re going to say? Is it when you can’t stop looking at them, no matter where in the room they are? Even when someone else is talking, but you can’t help but stare and memorise every one of their mannerisms, the little things they do that no one sees?

_He scratches his ear when he’s nervous. His tongue pokes out of his mouth when he’s laughing too hard. He listens to you like you’re the most important person in the world._

Is it that feeling you get when you’re lying next to them and everything is calm, you breathe easy, your heart beating at a normal pace because they’re with you and everything is okay?

Because if it is, then Dan’s well and truly fucked.

* * *

 

 ** _he only saw the boy in his dreams_ ** **.**

 

**Phil’s back**

_Fans of indie pop singer Phil Lester looking for clues on the subject of his new hit song_ Five Times I Said Yes and One Time I Didn’t _may want to tune into the MTV Video Music Awards on September 6 as he will be performing the song live at the award show._

 _The song, the first single off his new upcoming album_ Scattered _has already become a hit. Last week, it broke the Billboard chart record as the most downloaded song in its first week of the year, selling 600,000 copies._

 _It has also spurred a guessing game among fans and others about which ex-boyfriend Lester is singing about in lyrics such as:_ “ _We talk, I scream/You tell me she was better/And I tell you to leave_.”

 _Lester has won legions of fans with raw lyrics and songs inspired by his life. In the past, he has dated Ian Hawthorne, Stephen Bell, Caroline Griffin and most notably Charlie Scott, who was the subject of Lester’s song_ A Letter to Charlie.

*

Pj Liguori is a pretty chill guy. So chill in fact, that Dan has been in his house for well over an hour and the only piece of music they’ve created is a lyric that goes, ‘his hair shines the same way the sun does: a lot’. Productive.

Pj also dislikes beer, Dan is delighted to find out. So they sip on two small bottles of vodka. Dan sits at the grand piano and strings a few notes together.

“Hey, that’s good.” Pj remarks, tilting his head to the side. “What is it?”

Dan shrugs. He’d been playing piano a lot more recently - specifically, since the night he almost ran into Phil. He’d been popping in and out of Dan’s subconscious, in dreams where he would be just close enough to reach out and touch, but when Dan would raise his arm, he’d smile sadly and take a step back. “Dunno, one day I just started...playing.” _A, A, A, A, A, F#..._

“Oh, that’s sad.” Pj’s eyes are closed and his fingers are placed on his guitar strings. He hums along with Dan’s playing after a repetition and strums a chord. “That’s so sad, what’s up?”

Dan sighs. “I...I’m a little bummed about something.”

Pj sets his guitar aside and walks to the piano, slumping down next to Dan so that their thighs touch. “I’m listening.”

Dan has to shut his eyes for a second to breathe deep. He may be head over heels for Phil but Pj is still _extremely_ attractive and _extremely_ close to him.

“So, it’s like this,” Dan starts. “I like this guy - don’t roll your eyes!” He slaps Pj upside the head.

Pj pushes Dan away, giggling. He’s a giggly drunk. Duly noted. “Sorry, I just...you’re so _cute_ , Dan.”

Dan pouts. “I am _not_ cute. Now, are you going to listen to my boy troubles or not?”

Pj straightens his face as best as he can. “Of course. Go on, I’m all ears.”

“Right. Well, we didn’t really date, you know? But he wasn’t...one of those.” He gives a meaningful look and Pj nods knowingly. He knew all about the beginnings of fame and what comes with it. “We _could’ve_ dated though, Peej, we honestly. Could. Have. We’d be so, so good together.  But something happened, I fucked up apparently and I was left pining after this _guy_ , my feelings all over the place and you’d think I’d be over it, it’s been months but -”

“Get under someone else.”

“Wh - what?”

Pj’s eyes are slightly glassy. “Mhm. It’s a temporary fix, but you’ll feel so much better to have been able to be with someone else. You forget about them for a good while.” He takes a swig of his drink. Dan watches intently, mulling over what he’s just been told. Pj has a quite a long, pale neck, huh - and his lips are really luscious too.

Peej raises an eyebrow at him, because he had aid something Dan didn’t hear. “You okay?” Dan doesn’t respond again, but he leans forward and hooks a finger under Pj’s chin. As he moves closer so their noses are brushing against each other and Dan can see each individual colour in his kaleidoscope eyes, Pj’s breathing gets heavy.

“Me?”

Dan nods. He knows Phil would be most angry if he knew about this. Good. He’ll have a legitimate reason to be mad at Dan then. Dan doesn’t need to feel guilty about the right thing. Hell, he doesn’t need to feel guilty for this either. Phil can’t decide he can and can’t sleep with when they’re not even together. Good.

“Can I?” He asks - of course he does. He can’t just force himself on Pj fucking Liguori. Who does that?

Pj rolls his eyes and they flick down to Dan’s lips for a nanosecond. “I don’t know, Howell, _can_ you?”

Before Dan can respond, there’s a firm hand on his lower back and soft lips pressed against his own. Pj tastes predictably like vodka, but he smells like sea salt spray and his face under Dan’s fingers is slightly prickly from the stubble. _I’m kissing Pj Liguori_ . Wow. Take that, Phil. Take _that_.

Kissing Pj is different from kissing Phil. There’s no actual feeling there, in their movements, their light touches. He feels like he’s on foreign land, doesn’t know how to go about anything from here. Pj’s body is a lot broader than Phil, his shoulders more full. His hair isn’t straight and it’s soft under Dan’s fingers tangling themselves in it.

Pj murmurs something against Dan’s lips but he can’t make out what so he just deepens it to stop him from talking. He can’t think about any of this now. Not if he’ll regret it.

“Upstairs. Now.”

*

 _Déjà vu_ , Phil thinks, staring out of the window at the LA night sky. The VMAs are in three days, he’s closing the show with his new single, he’s not nominated for anything but Dan is (three awards, a small part of him fills with pride and a large part of him slaps the small part), and they’ll probably bump into each other during rehearsal and the show. Great.

He can do this. He can, he can, he can.

*

As Phil studies his reflection in his dressing room, he wonders if Stephen will be watching the show. He hopes not. He feels kind of sorry about the song. It’s very catchy, the exact of thing that gets a million radio plays until album release. The exact kind of thing that Stephen hates. That’s mostly why he wrote it like that, to get on Stephen’s hipster-y nerves. Serves him right, to be honest.

So maybe he doesn’t feel _very_ sorry.

The thing is, Phil’s stage clothes for the song are ironically ‘hipster’. His teal shirt hugs him quite naturally, and his hat _screams_ vintage. It has a red feather stuck to it and he’s wearing suspenders with trousers and red TOMS. His hair is neatly swept to the right like it always is. He looks like Stephen’s dream boy. Too late.

“Phil, you have to get ready to go now.” Phil turns to see his new friend who’s part of the crew, Louie, smile at him. “Good luck, you’ll be great, as always.”

Breathe in. “I hope so.”

Breathe out.

*

The thing about familiar faces is they stick. It’s a fact of life, everyone experiences it. So it doesn’t matter how far someone is, if your vision isn’t completely impaired, if you know their face, you can bet your eyes will fall on them.

Dan is much farther away from the stage than say, John is. But he’s all Phil can see as he walks down the catwalk, dancers behind him. He isn’t watching Phil like he’s analysing everything he’s doing, every step he’s taking, every word he’s singing. In fact, he’s avoiding looking at the stage completely. Not everyone else though. He knew people wanted to know who the song is about; Phil thought it was obvious, but apparently he’s more cryptic than he gives himself credit for. Huh.

Dan is the only one Phil sees, among tens of thousands of people. He continues looking at him, as if he stared long and hard enough, Dan would look at him. He stop at the very edge of the stage and does the chorus halfway before letting the audience take over: “ _You wish you still had me, but fuck you and your changing mind_ .” The crowd goes _wild_ , and Phil shouts, “Thank you, Video Music Awards! Always a pleasure!” He waves, swiftly glancing at Dan for a second, and runs offstage as the host announces the end of the show.

_Breathe in. Breathe out._

* * *

 

**_then one day he came back_ ** **.**

 

October brings along with it memories of Stephen and cuddles in blankets but it also brings with it the month of album release and Phil isn’t thinking about maple lattes and running red lights and the significance of the red plaid shirt he picked up to wear that day. He’s doing interviews every single day, treating fans to sneak peeks every second day, enjoying their reactions. He’d forgotten how exciting all this could be. In the background, talks of a world tour were also being discussed and tour is what Phil lives for. Screaming crowds, meeting the faces behind the words of love sent his way, and the coming together of the stage, the stories he gets to retell.

“Yeah, no, I’m not going to be able to make it to coffee today.” Phil tells Jack Howard, who’s been pestering - no, asking quite nicely actually, but very persistently - him to look at a script for a movie he wants to cast Phil in. No audition required and all. Phil was flattered by the offer, but he didn’t need another set of critics telling him he sucks balls at something he _knows_ he does suck balls at.

“Phil, you’ve been avoiding me ever since I pitched the idea to you,” Jack whines on the other side. “C’mon, it’s really not that bad, your character - ow!”

Phil starts. “What happened?” He asks, frowning.

“Nothing, ah, I ran into someone. I’m so sorry, Dan!” He adds to the person who he probably ran into.

 _Dan_?

“So, anyway, about your character -”

“Um, Jack, I have an interview in a few minutes that I need to get to, I am _so_ sorry. I’ll talk to you later, for sure, okay?”

-

Some days are better. Phil can listen to his voice singing songs about no one in particular without the need to claw his face out because _this is not who he is_ and to switch the radio off. His new song is the exact kind you’d hear for months in a club, beats and clapping and high budget production. It’s catchy and Phil often finds himself humming along to it, and has to stop himself. He sometimes wishes he could tell Dan how exciting and nerve wracking second albums can be, wants to calm him down and tell him he believes in him. After all, he’s one of the best in the business already and not for no good reason. Dan is talented, a natural pop star, born to be on stage and entertain.

Even so, he doesn’t _really_ want to take a ride in Dan’s car.

“Fuck this, fuck _everything_.” Phil groans, looking at his watch. He’s been standing in the lobby of the studio for the past hour and his driver just called him to say that the car has broken down. It’s pouring outside and Thor is waiting for him and _god, god, god_.

11:55PM. That’s fine. He can probably just survive on vending machine food.

“Yeah, Allen, I promise I’ll make it on time tomorrow...You know I love this sort of stuff.”

Phil freezes. He knows that voice.

 _Quick, run, hide, go somewhere else_ -

“Phil?”

He gulps and turns around to see him - Dan - his phone in hand, his expression probably mirroring Phil’s. He looks really nice in black skinny jeans, a white v-neck and a blue plaid shirt over it. He’s wearing a beanie and his curls peek out of its edges making him look a lot smaller than he is.

There’s an awkward silence. Phil still hasn’t replied to Dan’s acknowledgement of him. He clears his throat and says, “Yeah. Hi, good evening. I was just…” He looks out the door desperately hoping his chauffeur’s standing outside, waiting. But no, his luck is just completely non-existent tonight.

“Yeah, me too.” Dan replies, awkwardly. He gives Phil a small smile, which he returns because what else could he do?

His phone buzzes. A message. _Can’t get car to work._

Phil wants to cry. He looks up at Dan’s retreating figure and before he can think of what he’s doing, he calls out, “Wait!”

Dan turns around immediately, looking at Phil questioningly. Phil walks to him and looks sheepish. “Okay, see, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t for the weather, I would literally sleep in the studio tonight but - ”

Dan gives him a proper smile now. “C’mon.”

Well, then.

-

The awkwardness that came with seeing Dan in the lobby of the studios is _nothing_ compared to being in the same car as him. There’s no music and the road ahead of them is empty. The time on the dashboard tells Phil it’s a little past midnight.

Dan breaks the silence. “So. Congrats on the new album.”

Phil replies, “Well. It’s not out yet.”

“Might as well have been, have you seen the pre-orders?” He shakes his head, smiling.

“What?” Phil whines.

“You’re still the same, you know.” Dan looks over at him, with a strange expression on his face. He’s smiling and his eyes twinkle in amusement. “You don’t realise how _big_ you are.”

Phil rolls his eyes. “As if that matters. This album could be my downfall, who knows right?”

Dan scoffs. “Are you kidding me? Your performance at the VMAs was the most talked about. A completely different _genre_ . More than a hundred thousand pre-orders in the first week? Unbelievable. I bet you’ll sell _at least_ a million copies in the first week of release.”

Phil feels himself warm up. If you’re going to put it like that… “Don’t be ridiculous.”

They fall into silence again. Wow, an entire conversation. Not the best one, granted, but one, nonetheless.

The lack of conversation gets Phil thinking. He looks over at Dan from the corner of his eye. He seems totally at ease being in Phil’s presence. He can’t give a reason to why he shouldn’t be. It annoys Phil that he’s always the one thinking about the other person even after months of no contact whatsoever. Why does he think and overanalyse and come to conclusions all the time? It wouldn’t hurt to ask them how they felt about everything.

Would it?

Dan turns into Phil’s lane and slows as he reaches his flat. “Here we are.” He says, smiling at Phil.

“Come in,” Phil blurts. _What_?

Dan furrows his eyebrows. “Really?”

Phil nods, still not quite sure what’s happening. “It’s late, at least have some, I don’t know, coffee. For the ride, you know. So you don’t fall asleep while you drive.” What the fuck is he actually saying?

Dan laughs, his chest vibrating, making Phil slightly breathless. He’d forgotten how beautiful the sound was.

“What do you say?” Phil asks, still confused as to why he’s instigating all this. First, asking for a drive back and now this.

Dan grins and removes his seatbelt. “Lead the way to the caffeine.”

*

Thor doesn’t greet them when Phil opens the door. Asleep. Huh. The flat is dark and slightly cold. Dan shivers as he takes his coat off and hangs it. He looks around the living room with its vintage furniture and carpets.

“Nice.” He comments. “Your home represents your eighty year old personality.”

Phil rolls his eyes and ignores him. For a few seconds, it doesn’t seem like the last five months even happened. They’re still in that friends-to-lovers stage, where they haven’t defined what they are, but they’re having fun and that’s all that matters. But that’s not true. He’s with William whom he loves very much. Dan’s living his life, very well in fact, without Phil in it.

“How many sugars?” He asks as he stirs the milk with the beans.

“Two. I thought you knew that.”

Phil shakes his head. He pops in the sugar and continues stirring. Wracking his brain for things to talk about and nothing comes up. Fortunately for him, Dan seems to be full of topics tonight.

“How’s William? That’s his name, right?”

Phil smiles at the mention of his boyfriend as he always does, but his stomach flips because it’s _Dan_ who’s asking and if it wasn’t for Dan, Phil probably wouldn’t have even looked at Will. “He’s good.” Phil answers, handing Dan his mug. Dan thanks him, sips a little coffee and makes a satisfied sound. “Yeah, he’s...he is wonderful.” It comes out sounding a little defensive, although he can’t understand why. Hopefully he’s just thinking too much again and there’s no underlying emotions there.

“That’s nice.” Dan then looks Phil in eye and continues, “I wrote with Pj for my album.”

Phil starts. “Really? That’s so cool, Dan! Honestly, wow. Remember when you trembled at the thought of staying doors away from him?” The memory makes him chuckle.

Dan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ha ha, let’s remember how much of an embarrassing noob I was. No, he’s quite amazing. It was honestly...such an experience working with him.”

Phil nods. He knows that, having written with him too.

The silence feels comfortable this time. Phil likes that they’ve reached that stage - and so quickly too. Usually, it takes years for him to be okay with being in the same room alone with an ex. Although, was Dan an ex?

Dan suddenly shifts uncomfortably. Oh no. Did he say or do something? Was he thinking too loud? Is Dan getting some kind of vibe?

“Um, Phil, I - I have to tell you something.” Dan’s eyes are downcast. He coughs lightly. “Well, I mean, I don’t _have_ to tell you, I just...feel like I need to? I don’t know.”

Phil peers at him, trying to read his body language. He’s rigid, his jaw set, and he looks _very_ nervous.

“What is it?” Phil asks, hoping his tone is kind.

“Pj...I um.” Cough. “We slept together.”

It takes about a million years for Phil to respond. He’s become numb almost, because he doesn’t know what to do with this information. What did Dan want him to say?

He smiles tightly and says in what he hopes is a cheerful tone, “Wow. Wow, _Peej_. The one you were swooning over. Thought I felt the tension in that hotel room.” He tries for a laugh but it comes out maybe a little bitter. Had they done it before or after Peej wrote with Phil? Why didn’t he tell Phil before?

Dan blushes. “Yeah, um. That’s not all though.”

Oh, for God’s sake. “What else?”

Taking a deep breath, he says, “Okay, this is going to make you so mad but. I did it because he told me the only way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” He frowns. “That wasn’t supposed to sound funny. But. Yeah. I was...mad, at you for letting me go, at myself for doing whatever it was that made you do it, I didn’t - I wasn’t thinking, okay, and I just did it.” He swallows. “It didn’t work. I still felt so fucking guilty, Phil, and at the VMAs, I couldn’t look at you when you were in my line of vision, I couldn’t watch you perform or be in the same rehearsal space. And this will make you hate me forever but I haven’t stopped thinking about you for five months.”

Phil feels like someone’s just punched him in the gut.

“I know you’re with someone else now, I’ve tried that too, to see if it’ll work for me, but all I can think of is you and how _good_ we’d have been together, how well we would have worked and I couldn’t believe that you’d moved on like that.” Dan stops now, looks Phil in the eye. Phil doesn’t want to, but it seems like Dan has him hypnotised.

Dan stands and starts walking towards the front door. “I’m going to go. This was a mistake. I’m sorry, so sorry.” He turns back to look at Phil before leaving. Sad eyes meet his for a second before being turned away and he’s gone. Again.

* * *

 

 

 

**_timing is a funny thing_** **.**

 

**Phil’s boyfriend meets his parents**

_Phil Lester introduced his boyfriend William Cavendish to his parents when the couple visited his hometown._

_Lester, 22, began dating the son of lawyer and nobleman Robert Cavendish Jr. and late Mary Cavendish in July, and has expressed his seriousness about the relationship by taking him to his home in Rossendale, Lancashire._

_William, 18, enjoyed a barbeque dinner with Lester, and the couple looked smitten with each other._

_Onlookers said they could not keep their hands off each other._

*

**No blame**

_It’s official: Phil Lester has, at least for the moment, forsaken indie for the bottom-end bluster of electronic dubstep in his new single,_ The Blame is On Me. _Another teaser from his new album,_ Scattered _,_ Blame _sees the erstwhile indie pop starlet go full throttle - relatively speaking._

 _A song whose lyrics coyly suggest a mystery fling just enough to prompt idle speculation,_ The Blame is On Me _sees Lester offering a terse track that climaxes with a bass drop, the current stylistic signifier of choice among pop stars to expand market share and stay relevant._

 _For someone who released a purely pop song to spite an ex, one has to wonder if that will be the running theme in the new record. Is every track of a different subgenre of pop? Is there anything in it that can be classified as indie? We’ll have to see in five days_.

*

 **@AmazingPhil:** Scattered. Midnight. Tonight.

*

“So, Phil, congrats on the new album!” Davey spreads his arms wide, this warm and welcome smile ever present whenever Phil comes on the show. “It comes out tonight, at midnight on iTunes, if I’m not wrong?”

“Thank you so much,” Phil replies, also grinning. “Yeah, it does. And in stores, if you wanna join me in buying the first ever copy in the UK.”

Davey laughs. “I love that you still do that, oh my God. It’s quite a masterpiece. I was fortunate enough to listen to it before release tonight," Davey informs the live audience. “You can tell that all your heart and soul has been put into it.”

Something in him always looks up hopefully when he hears things like that. Is that recognition for what he loves doing? Are they _liking_ it?

“Can you explain to us why you chose the title of the album to be ‘Scattered’?”

Phil intertwines his fingers and gathers his thoughts. He knows this question will be asked by every single interviewer and he wants to make sure the first time he answers it will be the best and only way he’ll answer it.

“Well,” he starts, “it’s the name of a song on the album, and the one that captures the theme of it, I think? These past two years, I’ve been all over the place, physically and mentally. You know, I’ve been on a world tour, and in and out of relationships of different kinds.” He frowns and adds, “That sounds like I was in a million relationships, I can assure you, I _wasn’t_ , don’t believe everything TMZ says.” He winks. “Anyway, in the situations that I’ve written about in this whole album, I’d always felt a little scattered. Those relationships that keep coming back to you,” he thinks of Stephen and how many times it only took his sad eyes and ‘I’m sorry, I miss you, I love you’ line to make Phil forgive him again and again, “those relationships you’ve changed your mind about,” he thinks of Ian and how they can say hello to each other and smile and remember the good times without feeling bitter about the aftermath, “relationships that I went into knowing I was going to crash and burn," Charlie, his smirk distant, and something boils in the pit of Phil's stomach, "and relationships that are new, refreshing, they make you feel _important_ ,” he thinks of William and his heart warms, like his smile reaching his eyes and it feels like the summer sun is shining on him, Phil sighs, “Yeah, I - it’s about a lot of different things that have one thing in common and that’s my state of mind when I wrote the songs.”

He feels like he’s Atlas and someone just took the weight of the sky off him.

*

Phil gets William to stay with him during release week.

“I don’t get why you have any anxiety over this.” He tells Phil. “You’re what, a _legend_ among these people?”

Phil freezes at the word _legend_. Even though he was the one who invited William over, he’s been on edge ever since he got to the flat. Dan’s words had been bouncing around his head ever since he came over. If that wasn't bad enough, everything he saw, or heard, or felt reminded Phil of him. It feels like he's back to square one, five months previously when he couldn't drink a coffee because he would remember Dan likes it with extra sugar in the mornings.

"I'm no legend," Phil replies, smiling at William, and kissing him on his forehead. "But thank you for being with me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

*

That night, Phil finds it harder than usual to fall asleep. He keeps tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. Next to him, William is turned away and soundly asleep. Phil can't help but feel guilty - here he is, with a new record out, someone who left everything behind to stay with him and make sure he doesn't go completely _insane_ and he's thinking about a small thing that _Dan_ told him that frankly, shouldn't affect him in any way.

He slept with Pj. Okay. Okay, okay, okay. It doesn’t _matter_ because they weren’t even together at the time. It shouldn’t concern Phil who Dan sleeps with or holds hands with or does _anything_ with, because he’s with William and he’s very happy.

So why did he immediately feel his blood boil at the thought of Dan with Pj?

Dan told him he can't stop thinking about him. But it doesn't matter - it _can't_ matter at this point.

He buries his face in his pillow and moans softly. William shifts in his sleep and turns over to put his arm around Phil’s waist. “Y’alright?” He murmurs in his ear.

“Mhm. Sleep, babe.”

“Mfhm.”

*

“I still can’t believe you brought William with us.” John whines. “As if we need more press coverage than this is going to get.”

Phil and William laugh, and Phil squeezes his boyfriend’s hand. He isn’t going out anywhere without William, not after they’d been away for weeks. There’s another reason for bringing him along but Phil tries not to think about it.

John looks at his watch. “They’re late. Why did they decide to come together again?”

Phil sips his water. “Because they all stayed in that hotel. Will you calm down, it’s probably Chris who’s holding them up.”

“I’m really excited to meet all these friends of yours,” William puts in. “But I’ll be honest, I’m nervous about Pj Liguori. He’s _such_ a -”

“Legend?” Phil finishes.

“Yeah!”

 _God_.

Just then, a very loud laugh sounds across the restaurant, catching their attention, which could only mean one thing: Chris Kendall. He walks in with three other people trailing behind him, all of them looking amused but not surprised. Pj is right behind him, shaking his head. There’s Mitchell Davis, who takes responsibility and talks to the man at the entrance. A slumped figure looks up and Phil’s stomach flips.

If he was being honest with himself, he was hoping Dan wouldn’t show up. He was hoping Pj wouldn't show up either, actually. But they're both here, walking towards the table, Pj smiling widely at Phil as if he's done nothing to keep Phil awake at countless nights. Dan's expression is unreadable but he doesn't seem thrown by William's presence.

"Phil, you brought your royal boy toy with you!" Chris exclaims, sliding into their booth, on Phil's right.

He rolls his eyes and ignores him by sipping his water. Dan and Pj sit next to each other and Phil looks away.

William is wonderful. He converses easily with everyone, even Dan at one point although they don't speak at great length. Phil remains his slightly quiet self, even though these are his friends. He's surprised Dan managed to befriend all the people present in such a short amount of time. He owes Phil for Pj though, he guesses.

When Pj isn't arguing with Chris about something or the other, he's chatting with Dan. Try as hard as he might, Phil can't keep his eyes off them and he convinces himself it's only because they're in his direct line of vision. He can't reason the fire breathing monster that's suddenly come alive in his chest and is roaring angrily at the scene.

Dan speaks up. "Excuse me, I need to..." He motions in the washrooms' direction. Pj moves to let him through and they brush against each other.

"Babe, you alright?" William asks softly. Phil looks at him confused.

"Fine, why?"

William gestures to the hand holding his glass - a little too tight. "Oops." He plays it off with a big gulp of water. "Actually, I need to go too. Let me through."

He gets out of the booth and walks towards the washrooms. Dan hasn't gone in yet but he seems to be struggling with the door.

"Fucking open," he grunts, trying to pull it open.

"You have to push."

Dan turns, wide-eyed. Seeing who it is, he blushes ( _blushes_ ), and mutters, "oh."

He pushes the door open, walks in with Phil following on his heels.

They rinse their hands in adjacent sinks and Phil makes sure to not look at Dan's reflection. He noticed when he'd walked in earlier but Dan looked _really_ good. He's in a grey v-neck and a black jacket and his hair ever so slightly disheveled.

Dan starts to turn and leave when Phil blurts, "Why did you come?"

"Excuse me?" Dan's reflection looks at his own, frowning.

"Here, tonight. You knew I was going to be there."

Dan scoffs. "Well, in that case, why are _you_ here? You knew full well I was coming. You brought along your boyfriend too, don't think I don't know what you're trying to do - it's not working."

Phil grits his teeth and turns around to look at Dan in the eye. "What do you think I'm doing, Dan?"

Dan holds his gaze but doesn't reply. Phil repeats, "What, huh? What am I doing? _You're_ the one who comes back five months later and tells me you slept with someone you know would hurt me and that you _still_ think about me all the time, and you think _I'm_ doing something?" He lets out a bark of laughter and walks towards Dan, who looks a lot smaller than he is, now.

"Ph-Phil, listen -"

He looks really good like that. The monster in his chest is roaring again, in anticipation.

"Let me tell you something, Dan." He stops walking because Dan's pressed against the wall. "Since you told me about your feelings, I've been thinking. About everything we could've had. And I thought about your reasons and I just couldn't understand why you'd do that. And then I understood. You were jealous."

Phil's bullshitting at this point, he has no idea why he's saying what he is but he sticks to it. But before he can go on though, Dan plunges in with his own words.

"Don't talk to me about jealousy, Phil. Six months ago, when I came back from Australia and you didn't understand why I did what I did, to _protect_ us, you broke up with me! I spent so long trying to figure out why you'd do that because I didn't want to believe you were just a clingy, jealous person. So yeah, enlighten me." His chin is up and his expression challenges Phil to give it his best shot.

He suddenly feels his mouth dry up. He knows why he broke up with Dan. He thought he didn't love Phil back and got scared. But now...

"I -" He stops. He needs to say it right. But one look at Dan waiting for his answer and he's off. "I loved you. I was scared you didn't love me back, I just, I loved you, okay?!"

Dan's expression drops but Phil doesn't let him continue. He goes on. "You come back now and tell me you tried to get over me by sleeping with one of my own _friends._ " Dan has the audacity to look guilty. Too late.

"The image made me angry. Not for the reason you think though." Because Phil thought that too, but now as he looks at Dan, he realises. "Pj got to have you the way I did, and that didn't sit right with me. How _dare_ he tell you to get over me by getting under someone else?"

He takes a deep breath and walks so close to Dan, he can see specks of gold in his eyes. "I still - I still love you." Phil whispers.

Dan gulps. "Phil, I..."

His gaze drops to Dan's lips. He feels Dan come in closer. He’s going to -

“No.”

“Wh-what?” Dan looks confused.

“William.” Phil replies simply. “I can’t, not like this. Dan, I may love you but William is important to me.”

Dan looks like he has something to say about that, but Phil doesn’t want to hear it. Frankly, William’s one of the best he’s ever had and he knows this is going to hurt him, he doesn’t need to _cheat_ on him to make it worse than it already is.

“I can respect that.” Dan says, taking a few steps back. “Yeah, you shouldn’t. William doesn’t need to go through what you have so many times.” That stings, but Phil lets it go.

They leave the washroom together, back to the table where everyone is oblivious to the change in atmosphere that makes Phil’s heart ache.

He doesn’t look at Dan at all the rest of the night and when they - Phil and William - leave, he stays quiet the whole ride back to the flat. He doesn’t say anything when they get home and get ready for bed. William walks up behind him, wraps his arms around his waist and places a tender kiss on his exposed shoulder. “Tonight was nice.” He murmurs against Phil’s pale skin.

Phil shuts his eyes and tries to breathe. He can’t do this, he can’t, he can’t.

An ominous silence ensues, and Phil can’t fill it. He doesn’t want to, really.

“Is something wrong?” He lets go of Phil and turns him around to face him. William looks at him with so much innocent concern, Phil wants to cry.

“No. Nothing’s wrong.” He sounds so small, just like he feels. How could he tell William, perfect, wonderful William that he’s not the one for him? He deserves so much better, not Phil, who’s always looking for better.

“Phil. You can tell me anything.”

But he still keeps quiet.

“You can nod or shake your head. Was it about tonight?”

He nods slowly.

“Someone there bother you?”

He shrugs.

“Was it Dan?”

Phil looks up at him quickly and William smiles. “HA! What about him? Did he say something or…?”

“No.”

“He speaks!” He laughs, all crinkly eyes and hand on chest and Phil’s heart breaks. “Okay, right. Dan Howell. How are you in any way related to him, I wonder.” He pretends to think hard, frowning, a finger on his chin. Phil takes a deep breath. He can’t do this.

“Will, let’s just sleep, I’m -”

“He was the one you were with before me.”

Phil starts. “What?”

William rolls his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Phil. When you and I got together, you were obviously trying to get over someone else. I even tried to find out who, remember? All those times I tried to get it out of you. Sometimes you’d talk about a song you’d written and you would look so sad or angry or...It’s Dan, isn’t it?”

Phil throws himself into William’s arms. He can feel rogue tears fall down his cheek and he’s mad about it because he doesn’t want to cry, doesn’t want to fall apart in front of this person he’s hurting. William only holds onto him tighter, leaning them both against the headboard of the bed.

He strokes Phil’s hair, saying, “shh, it’s okay” softly, and it’s _not_ okay, why won’t he be mad at Phil?

“Stop crying, bub.” William chuckles. “God, you still love him that much?”

Phil looks up at him, with probably bloodshot eyes and says, “Sorry, I’m so _sorry_ , William, I didn’t think - I don’t want -”

“Shh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” He cups Phil’s face in his hands and continues, “Phil, you’ve been so good to me, you’re honestly the best part of my days, even when we weren’t together, you were a breath of fresh air in between all that family drama I have to deal with. No matter what, you’ll always be special.”

Phil’s eyes well up and blur his vision again. He buries his face in William’s shirt, he can hear his heartbeat and he can’t believe this is happening.

“Phil, please. I’m trying to tell you that your happiness is what makes _me_ happy. If that means being with Dan, then so be it. Am I hurt? Of course. Who in their right mind would want to lose you?” He takes Phil by the shoulders and pulls him off him. Hooking a finger under his chin, he makes Phil look at him and says, “Will you let me comfort you properly, _please_?”

Phil sniffles and rubs his eyes roughly. He swallows hard.

“Good. Now c’mere.” He spreads his arms wide and Phil falls onto him, wrapping his arms around his waist, trying as hard as he can to be close to him.

“William?” His voice cracks but he catches himself in time. “Can I - Can I ask for something?”

“Of course, Phil. Anything.” His voice is soft, like Phil is fragile and he’d break at a slight gust of wind.

“Can you kiss me? Just...for the sake of -”

“Yes.”

And William kisses him for the last time - because they know it’s the last time, it feels final - and there’s so much love and hurt and Phil almost starts crying again but he tries to be strong like William is being. They don’t do anything else, just leave small kisses on each other’s lips and Phil falls into dreamless sleep.

*

When he wakes up the next morning, Phil is alone. William isn’t in the bathroom, or the kitchen, or playing with Thor. The cat is awake and lying in his little basket. Phil goes to him and sits on the floor next to it.

“Just you and me today, bud.” He says, scratching his ear.

*

"Two cheeseburgers, please. And um, easy on the cheese on one of them. Thanks." Phil ordered with a grin on his face. As the food got ready, he turned to Dan looked disgusted with his side-note. " _What_?"

" _Easy on the cheese_? Who orders _less_ cheese?!" Dan seemed more offended than necessary, if Phil did say so himself. But that was Dan in most scenarios.

"Um, someone who's lactose intolerant?" Phil replied, eyebrow raised.

Dan's face fell and he stammered, "I - I forgot, oh my God, I'm sorry - "

Phil laughed and touched Dan's cheek. "It's alright, Dan, jeez. You'd think you forgot my birthday or something."

"Well..."

"DAN."

*

"Together in the lunch line (Cheeseburgers) laughing & smiling was @danisnotonfire and @AmazingPhil! :) #internationalpoproyalty"

"I saw @danisnotonfire throw @AmazingPhil over his shoulder (kinda) to carry him out of his rehearsal today! #CUTIES"

"WHAT'S THIS?! A wild Dan Howell makes an appearance backstage at the X-Factor studio and looking fit as HELL. ([ x ](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CRpc10tUcAAH8XN.jpg))"

*

 **Dan Howl:** i’m in a writing session and i’m struggling

 **Phil Legend:** what have you come up with so far

 **Dan Howl:** ‘you’re my cinnamon roll, too pure, too good’

 **Phil Legend:** are u kidding

 **Dan Howl:** i wish

 **Dan Howl:** pls help

 **Phil Legend:** talk about a physical feature of the person?? like idk eyes or something

 **Dan Howl:** you have eyes

 **Phil Legend:** i’m so flattered

 **Dan Howl:** I MEANT NICE YOU HAVE NICE EYES

*

Heavy breathing has always been the state Dan ends up in within the first five minutes - when he’s under Phil, powerless enough to not roll over, in enough control to pull him down to kiss him all over his face. They start slow though, always with light touches and whispers of, ‘ _I love you_ ’ before going all out and suddenly they’re tangled, grasping, and neither knows who started it but they finish almost always together, staring at the ceiling, and Phil traces their names on Dan’s arm and puts them in a heart.

November has been good.

Seven months ago, Phil wouldn’t have agreed to keeping them a secret _again_. But it’s too soon. Too soon since William.

The hotel room they’re staying in is out of the way, something he had to plead with Sid to get them. His manager doesn’t approve, considering that the last time Phil ‘involved himself with Dan Howell’, he was constantly in and out of the studio to make last minute additions to the album and scrapping them just as fast.

Nobody really approves - “you’re going too fast”, “you’re making the same mistakes”, “how do you know it won’t be like last time?” and all Phil has to do is look at Dan smiling at him, reassuring him that they’ve waited, he’s not making a mistake and Dan isn’t misleading him and it won’t be like last time.

“Phil. Hey, Phil. Wake up.”

One of the best things about Dan is how fucking spontaneous he is. So even though it’s basically nighttime and his clock reads 12:45AM, Dan’s shaking him awake and he’s fully dressed, hair kept curly, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and Phil’s heart races as he clambers out of bed not questioning any of it and getting dressed himself.

They leave the hotel quietly, their hoods up, and the streets are dark, which is unusual for Phil who only ever expects New York to be lit like a big Christmas tree all year round.

Dan’s black Range Rover is warm and Phil is thankful for his light t-shirt underneath the jacket.

“Where’re we going?” Phil asks, eyes on the road in front of them.

Dan doesn’t reply, just drives. Well, then.

*

They’ve been driving for about half an hour and they’re already out of the city.

“Y’know, I love spontaneity as much as the next person,” Phil says slowly, looking at Dan whose eyes are steadily on the road, “but you really need to tell me _where_ we’re going.”

Dan touches his nose and replies, smirking, “That’s not how surprises work, Philly.”

“But it’s not even my birthday!” Phil protests. “Anyway, you have like, three days of a break, why couldn’t we just stay in New York? Sid and Allen will be so mad.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “ _Because_.”

“Because what?”

“Because, because.”

“Because, because _what_?”

“Because – screw this, we’re listening to some music. You pick.”

Phil takes this as a gesture of compensation and starts scrambling through his rucksack for an album. “Aha! This is perfect.” He holds up _Pet Sounds_ , which, okay, is a cassette, but it was a gift from his father, a huge fan of The Beach Boys.

Dan turns to him and cocks his head to one side. “Seriously? You want to listen to – to 60’s psychedelic rock. Okay. _That’s_ fine.”

Phil shrugs. “Take it or leave it, Howell.”

Dan sighs. “Okay, okay. Anything for you. Put it on.”

Phil lets out a childish ‘yay!’ and puts the cassette on. A few seconds of whirring sounds later, the first track plays.

 _Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older?  
_ _Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long  
_ _and wouldn’t it be nice to live together?  
_ _In the kind of world where we belong_.

Phil feels a smile creep on his face and he has to do all he can to stop from seeing if Dan’s expression mirrors his.

“Are we going to be wherever this place is for the whole three days?” he asks, making sure not to speak over the music.

_Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up  
_ _in the morning when the day is new?  
_ _And after having spent the day together,  
_ _hold each other close the whole night through._

Dan only shrugs.

Phil wants to be awake for when they reach the place they’re going to, but already he’s seeing the world through half-closed eyelids and Brian Wilson’s voice fades and mixes in with his dream where Dan’s standing in front of him, wearing a black and white tuxedo, smirking. Just like the day they met.

_Goodnight my baby / sleep tight my baby._

*

“Phil. We’re here.”

The first thing he hears is the crashing of waves in the distance. Rubbing his eyes fervently, he says, “Wha – are we stopping at the beach?”

It’s morning, the sun’s fully out and glaring passively

“Nope. Welcome to Machias, Maine.”

Okay, so. _Maine_ wasn’t exactly what Phil had in mind when Dan said, _let’s get out of here_. Although, with Dan, you can never be sure of what to expect.

They were parked outside the garage of a small redbrick house, with a variety of bushes in the front decorating it.

The house itself isn’t too big, one storey, a sea view in the front, woods at the back. “Homey.” He remarks, walking into the foyer. Wooden stairs greet him, probably to the bedroom. To his right are the lounge and kitchen, which also have wooden flooring.

“I thought for the break I’m getting from screaming girls,” Dan explains, “I would bring you along to see the new place.”

“New place?”

Dan shrugs. “It’d be nice to come here whenever it gets too much.”

Phil nods knowingly. He gets it; sometimes the good life of a celebrity that everyone wants a piece of isn’t so good. “It’s really nice,” he tells Dan, smiling at him. “Why don’t we go test the bed, huh?”

*

“How do you pronounce M-A-C-H-I-A-S again?”

“Mac-ee-as, I think.”

“ _Oh_. I thought it was Mach-ee-as. Like, match, y’know?”

“Go to sleep, Phil.”

“Like, I love coming to a place whose name I can’t pronounce.”

“Good _night_ , Phil.”

*

Phil isn’t sure how it even happens but Dan suggested that they bake something together  and now they’ve pitted themselves against each other in a bake-off. He’s searching wildly for icing sugar in cupboards and glances at Dan carefully pouring cupcake batter into his moulds.

“You’re making ten cupcakes for two people.” Phil says.

“What’s your point?” Dan retorts, not looking at him. His tongue is stuck out as he concentrates on not spilling any onto the counter. “You’re making a whole pie, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah. Because I know you’ll end up eating the entire thing because of how _delicious_ it’s going to be.”

Dan scoffs. “You talk big, but you forget that I did work experience at a bakery back home.”

“ _You_ forget that I’ve been baking since I was eight.”

“Cute.”

“I’m going to kick your arse, Howell.” Phil takes his pie tray and saunters to the pre-heated oven. Dan follows him, amused with his own creation, putting it in.

“Right. Okay.”

*

“Stop grinning like that!” Dan scolds Phil from across the table.

Phil bites his lip to keep from laughing  but he can’t help it. He throws his head back and laughs until literal tears come out of his eyes. “I’m sorry, I just, you -”

Dan groans, picks up his plate to wash and stalks off to the kitchen. The bake-off resulted in Phil continuously licking his lips long after he’d eaten his share of cupcakes, which was fine. Dan, on the other hand, inappropriately moaned on his first bite of pie, proceeded to try and eat the piece whole and then nibble bits of the rest of it all throughout dinner.

“I did say I’d kick your arse!” Phil calls out.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Romance is alive.

*

They have the conversation as they lay on the couch in front of the fireplace.

Phil puts on _Pet Sounds_ again and it remains in the background as they cuddle. Dan strokes Phil’s hair and tries to hum along to the song even though he’s listening to it for the first time. When it’s quiet and Dan isn’t talking about something or the other (sometimes it’s the concept of life changing music and other times artificial intelligence - he’s quite a character), Phil’s thoughts take over. And usually these thoughts revolve around…

“Hey Dan?”

“Hm?”

“When do you think we’ll be ready? To y’know...tell.”

The hand stroking his hair stops. “Is it bothering you?”

Phil shrugs (kind of. It’s hard to shrug when you’re lying down). “I dunno, but. We will some day, right?”

“Of course. I want to hold your hand, and kiss you and take you to my favourite places without all the hiding and secrets.”

The song changes. It’s one of Phil’s all time favourites, _God Only Knows_. He gets up and holds his hand out to Dan. “Up.” Phil tells him.

Dan raises an eyebrow but takes his hand nonetheless and pulls himself up. Phil pulls him closer until their faces are almost touching. “Dance with me.” Phil whispers. Dan sighs and wraps his arms around Phil’s waist, and Phil hooks his chin onto his shoulder and they sway slowly. He breathes in Dan’s scent which has mixed slightly with the scented candle they’re burning (beachwood?)

_I may not always love you  
_ _But long as there are stars above you  
_ _You never need to doubt it  
_ _I'll make you so sure about it._

“What do you think will happen?” Phil asks. “If they knew, I mean.”

“Probably chaos. I mean, you and me? I don’t mean this to sound obnoxious but we’d get double the attention we want. And I don’t know about you but I don’t need that kind of attention. They’re _brutal_.”

“I know. But do you think we’d survive?”

Dan pushes him away slightly and makes him look him in the eye.

_If you should ever leave me  
_ _Well life would still go on believe me  
_ _The world could show nothing to me  
_ _So what good would living do me?_

“I don’t know anything,” Dan replies slowly, “but I know I love you. And that no matter what anyone says about us, I will _always_ love you. And I think that’s all we need to stand a chance.”

And that’s all Phil needs to hear.

* * *

 

**_and everyone was watching_ ** **.**

 

Phil is rudely awoken by the sound of Dan shouting, “IT’S TODAY, IT’S TODAY, IT’S TODAY.”

“Mmnhhm,” he moans, rubbing his eyes. When he looks up at the direction of the voice at the foot of the bed. Dan’s bouncing on his heel, his pupils blown, hair not straightened and look quite frankly like the most beautiful person in the world.

It’s today. Dan’s first time ever performing in Madison Square Garden. His family is going to be there, Pj is going to be there, _Phil_ is going to be there. Everyone is going to know today and the thought of it makes him want to throw up.

“C’mere.” He says, smiling sleepily at Dan, making grabby hands at him.

Dan falls forward onto the bed and crawls onto Phil’s lap. He buries his face into the covers and says, his voice muffled, “I canf belief.”

“Me neither. You’re going to be _so_ good.”

Dan looks up at him. “You really think so?”

Phil nods. “I believe in you, bubba.”

“What do you think about maybe taking Caroline’s daughter to the zoo?”

“I’d really like that.”

*

Lucy isn’t a difficult two year old to handle, Phil learns. Usually, he’s horrible with kids; they probably don’t like his face or something. He does try his best though, honest.

Dan, on the other hand, is _adored_ by children.

“You’ve known her longer, it isn’t fair.” Phil whines, handing a struggling Lucy to Dan. She reaches out to try and grab his beanie, but fails because he lifts her up above his head and spins her around, laughing.

“I guess.” He brings her back down and hooks her onto his hip. “C’mon, let’s go see the seals.”

They walk, but don’t hold hands. They’ve been in the park for over an hour, just walking around, eating roasted chestnuts (that’s just Phil, actually) and trying to make Lucy laugh. She’d originally allowed herself to sit on Phil’s lap because of the foxes on his jumper, which make him feel like he’d been used slightly, but who gets mad at babies?

They both know they’re being watched. A few people have whispered loud enough to hear too. Dan chose to ignore it, but Phil did noticeable double takes at whoever spoke up. They know pictures are probably being taken too.

“They’re watching.” Phil murmurs.

“I know.”

“What do you think they’re saying?”

“I don’t really wanna know.”

*

 **@daaannhowl:** no offence but why is dan with phil lester

 **@leghowell:** phan is such an ugly ship name tho why would they

 **@FALLOUTPHlL:** OHY MGOF DAN HOWELL A ND PHIL MY TWO FAVES

 **@checkyesphil:** anyway here’s my rant abt why i think phan is a pr stunt pic.twitter.com/w78OvqHpk8

 **@danisnotonfire:** last night was the best thing i’d ever done

 **@leghowell:** @danisnotonfire please tell me you’re talking abt msg

*

The interviewer seems sweet enough, so Dan walks up to her, keeping his smile intact. She’s professional, but chill, and says, “Hi Dan! Congratulations on the album!”

“Thanks so much,” he replies. “It’s huge, isn’t it?”

“Sure is. And Madison Square last week, talk about huge.”

Dan nods enthusiastically. He could talk about MSG all his life. It had been incredible; everyone he loved was there that night, and it had been one of his best shows. No, his actual _best_. Pj joined him onstage and he was pretty sure he heard the word ‘deej’ being shouted. Wonder what that could be. The after-party Allen hosted for him later also made him feel like he was on top of the world. There were no flashing cameras (that he knew of), just his mates, karaoke and Phil.

He hasn’t seen Phil for a whole week and it’s driving him up the wall even though it had been his suggestion that they spend Christmas with their families and New Year’s and Phil’s birthday together. But still. It’s a little like having withdrawal symptoms, except he would never compare Phil to drugs. He’s like, he’s like a sweet scent, one that you’d like for your house so that whenever you walk in, it’s like you’re coming home and nothing is wrong in the world.

“Yeah, MSG was _crazy_.” He says, feeling his heart beat faster at the mention of it. “Like, I was walking in the corridor and I could _feel_ the people who’d walked through it before, y’know? It was unbelievably sick to be able to experience that.”

“Mhm. Right, so we need to set the record straight. We’re all very excited about you and Phil Lester, you two are dating, right?”

Dan has to do all he can to keep his smile in, but it comes out anyway and he shuffles from foot to foot as he says, “I don’t - I ran into him at the zoo, is all.”

The reporter smirks and is about to say something but Pete, his security head grabs his shoulder at that moment, says, “no more questions, he has to be in the venue now”, and drags him away from the cameras.

*

 **Dan Howl:** hey phil whats your favourite breed of dog

 **Phil Legend:** no

 **Dan Howl:** but

 **Phil Legend:** oh my god please dont get me another dog for christmas/my birthday

 **Dan Howl:** :( okay

*

Dan’s grip on Phil’s waistline tightens. “We can do this.” He says, his jaw set.

Phil attempts at a joke. “We’re just leaving a restaurant, and are on our way to countdown to the new year and they’re not going to eat us.” But he knows. It’s been a few weeks and he _knows_ what it’s like to be out there now - they’ll be surrounded, and all he’ll see and hear are flashes, being bombarded with questions he can’t  even make head or tail of, but sometimes he’ll hear a faint, ‘ _is it true you’re only doing this for publicity_?’ What the fuck? What would either of them even _need_ publicity for?

They walk out, heads ducked, security on either side, trying to keep them safe from the vultures. They take timed brisk steps towards the car waiting for them, practically diving into the backseat when they reach it. It almost sounds like white noise now, he can’t find himself being affected by it.

It feels like they’re on a tightrope and someone’s purposely moving it, trying to make them fall and it’s all they can do to hold on to each other and pray neither of them do. It’s been like this since Madison Square, they’re fighting to live another week and they act like everything’s fine but it’s not and Phil knows it’s not, but he loves Dan so much it hurts him all over to see that Dan is still _scared_ , and so is he.

It’s not like they were going to get any kind of privacy at the ball drop. And sure, it might be weird to have like, five burly men surrounding them as they count down to the new year with all these strangers, but Dan and Phil had never been conventional. They push through for a good spot, Dan going, “excuse us, I’m so sorry,” to every second person. Phil wants to both roll his eyes and also kiss him right there and then.

They make it kind of the front, but still letting the people shorter than them stay where they are because asking them to move would be mean.

The big clock ticks loudly, the numbers counting down and Phil feels like everything’s in slow motion now. He looks at Dan, and notices he’s slightly taller than him, but he can really _see_ it now - Dan has come so far in over a year since he started his career, so far since he beat Phil for that one award and they first met, and he’s gone to number one with his first _and_ second album, performed at Madison Square Garden, earned the respect of esteemed critics that are very hard to impress. Phil’s so proud of Dan his heart could swell and burst.

“Thirty! Thirty seconds left!” Someone to their right shouts. And it is. When Phil looks at Dan, he’s grinning madly at him, and he loops his arm around Phil’s waist and pulls him closer.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Phil asks, smirking.

“TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN!”

Dan leans in and whispers in his ear. “I miss you.”

“FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE! _HAPPY NEW YEAR_!”

And it’s like a fairytale, almost. Phil feels himself be literally swept off his feet, and he can’t hear anything, just feel Dan’s warm embrace, his soft lips on his own, one his his hands on the back of his neck. He’s shaking slightly, because this is real, it feels real, and they’re welcoming new beginnings together, a violin sounds somewhere and Phil remembers Dan telling him he loves violins and wished he could play it like he played the piano.

It feels like a million years later when they break apart, but it’s only been a minute and both their cheeks are flushed, and Dan laughs loudly and Phil’s heart comes up to his throat and he’s _so in love with him_. He tackles Dan into a hug, with no intent of ever letting go, muttering, “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you” over and over again.

To new beginnings.

*

 **@ally4563:** that awkward moment when phil lester and dan howell start making out in the same elevator as you…omg???

 **@leghowell:** anyway….dj ligowell is real

*

“You’re being ridiculous,” is the first thing Dan says, his face hardly visible in the dead of night. His eyes still shine through, light brown, almost gold.

“I’m being _smart_.” Phil corrects him, hauling his bag of clothes and leading the way to his car. They dump their things in the backseat and Phil starts the car. “Did you know someone thought you were going to propose?” He scoffs. A second later, he looks at Dan who looks amused and adds, “You’re not going to propose, are you?”

“How the hell did they find out?!”

Phil hits him on the arm. “Shut _up_.”

“Why are you the one taking _me_ away on your birthday week, anyway?” Dan whines.

“Because your surprises scare me.” Phil replies simply. “Plus, I’ve been planning to do this for a while, so shut up and enjoy yourself, Howell.”

Dan proceeds to grumble until they reach their destination.

*

The lodge they get is cozy and has a piney scent which Phil can live with.

“A ski trip.”

“Mhm.”

“Can you even stand with skis on?”

“Um, stop bullying me? I’m turning twenty three tomorrow?”

Dan chuckles and pulls him in for a kiss. They’d gotten better at that, small pecks on the lips, forehead, cheek. There’s familiarity in it, and makes Phil’s heart sing. The real love he’d always daydreamed about seemed almost tangible.

There’s also the part where Dan’s eyes get a little darker and he smirks, looking Phil up and down. “Hey. I should give you your birthday present.”

Phil rolls his eyes. “It’s _tomorrow_.”

Somewhere in the house, a clock goes, _BONG, BONG, BONG_. Twelve times.

Dan smiles sweetly. “The house is asking for it too.” He walks into Phil’s space and immediately grabs him by the waist for a kiss. And although Phil loves familiarity, he thinks he’d probably be able to live with this for his whole life too - this passion, this heat, the want he feels all over his body.

He touches Dan’s cheek where a spontaneous red patch of warmth appears and closes his eyes. His other hand roams Dan’s chest, finding the top button of his shirt. He unbuttons it, slowly, making Dan groan. “Hurry up.” He complains.

Soon enough though, the shirt falls to the floor and Dan’s already pulling Phil’s t-shirt off him  as they back themselves to the bed.

Dan hovers over Phil and whispers, "I love you," before lowering himself and biting his neck.

"Fuck, Dan -" Phil moans.

"You make wonderful sounds." Dan murmurs against his skin. "And I love it. I love you here -" He kisses the spot he'd left a lovely purple mark on, "and _here_ -" He goes lower down to Phil's stomach and kisses him, which makes him giggle.

" _Phil_." Dan groans, coming up to face him. "I can't get into the mood if you're going to get all ticklish and giggle like a bloody five year old."

Phil laughs and cups Dan's face in his hands, kissing him on the nose. "I'm sorry bubba, you're just so cute. Listen, lie with me."

Sighing defeatedly, Dan flops onto the space next to Phil and cuddles into his chest. "Happy birthday." He whispers.

"Thank you, Dan, and I love you."

"You're so old though."

"Say that again and I'm leaving your ass out the door in the snow."

Chuckling softly, Dan snuggles up to him, arms around his waist. He murmurs, “I feel like we’re hiding like in Maine again. S’nice.”

Oh.

*

"Wake up, sweetums, it's time for birthday breakfast."

Phil groans, and turns over to see Dan hovering over him, wearing an apron. _An apron_.

"Never call me that." He says, sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah it creeped me out too, to be honest." Dan replies, shuddering.

Phil laughs. The sun is shining outside but there's still a lovely layer of snow, waiting for them to ski over.

He gets dressed and ready for the rest of the day. As he fixes his hair in the mirror, he realises he's wearing the blue t-shirt with the paper airplanes on it. Just to see, he lifts up a bit of the fabric and sniffs. Sure enough, it smells a bit like Dan. It's the only piece of clothing they share; Dan said he felt bad about taking it to Australia with him, especially since it really wasn't his. Phil said if Dan was nicer, he'd probably be Mother Theresa or something.

The ski lodge isn't full of people, thankfully. Their instructor person is nice and patient with Phil's constant wobbling and assures him that a lot of people don't get it the first time around. Phil scowls at Dan who's standing behind the instructor and pretending to laugh really hard, clutching his stomach.  Fucking -

It's not bad at all though. The instructor leaves them to it, and they ski until Dan complains that he's hungry and Phil rolls his eyes and then admits that okay, he's kind of famished too.

"It's nice to be away like this." Dan says, looking out of the window-wall they're sat next to.

Phil nods. "Yeah. Was the last time we went anywhere without cameras flashing in our faces Machias?"

"Ma-chee-as."

" _Fuck off_."

Dan laughs his loud laugh, and his dimple pops out and Phil leans forward to kiss it.

Suddenly, a muffled whirring sound of some sort of vehicle comes from outside. Phil looks out the window to see a snowmobile zoom past the cafe.

“OH MY GOD.” Dan all but yells. “I wanna do that!”

Phil raises an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

Dan nods furiously. “Yes, yes, oh please, Phil, it’ll be so fun, and I know it’s your birthday and we should do things you want to but _ohhh_ -”

Phil laughs. “Okay, okay, you big baby. Let’s go!”

*

“YEEAAAHHH!”

Dan whoops every two seconds as he swerves the snowmobile wildly around orange cones and sometimes trees and Phil is _terrified_.

“I’M GOING TO DIE ON MY BIRTHDAY.” He yells. “GOODBYE, SWEET WORLD.”

He closes his eyes and holds onto Dan’s waist as tightly as he can. to be honest, it’s nice to see Dan so happy.

“PHIL, C’MON, I WOULD NEVER - WHOA, WHOA.”

He turns sharply to the left and the snowmobile skids and Phil sees his entire life flash before his eyes. The world goes slant for a second and then everything is black.

*

Nothing happens, thankfully. Not to Phil, anyway.

He watches Dan get his stitches done and winces when Dan does, because _God_ , that had been a lot of red blood on the white snow.

“I’m _fine_ , Phil,” Dan says for the fifteenth time when Phil asks him if he’s okay (for the fifteenth time).

They’re alone in the room now, and Dan has bandages on his chin. He looks kind of funny, Phil has to admit.

“What happened?” Phil asks. “Why’d you…?”

Dan opens his mouth, but then closes it. He says slowly, “I don’t know if I should -”

He’s interrupted by the door bursting open and Allen storming in. “ _Unbelievable_.” He says, looking furious. “I let Phil bring you here, make so many people sign NDAs and then you get yourself almost _killed_ because some pap found out about you and almost blinded you with one of their fucking cameras.”

“Hi, Mum.” Dan says dryly.

Phil just stares at Dan. _He_ hadn’t seen the pap. Was that really why they’d crashed?

Allen spends about half an hour moaning about Dan’s state - “really, _twenty stitches_ ” - before leaving. Dan laughs nervously at Phil when he does and Phil just continues looking at him.

“Good birthday, huh?”

Phil swallows. “Dan. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think we should be together?”

Dan tilts his head to one side. “What?”

Phil starts pacing and says, wildly waving his arms around. “I just, we’re so _known_ and I thought it’d be okay, we’ll be fine, I’ve been there before, I could protect you -”

“Protect me? Phil, wha -”

“No, _listen_. I know you’re scared about all this, and that you’ve never commited to anyone before -”

“Phil -”

“But that’s _okay_. What’s not okay is me keeping you around when I know you can’t deal with these monsters. That’s what they are and I mean. No one even wants us together.” His eyes well up against his will as he remembers hearing things from strangers.

Dan opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Phil takes this as an opportunity to continue. He walks to the bed Dan’s sat on and plops down next to him. “They scare me.” He says in a small voice. “They say things and I can’t, I don’t want you to be with me when I can’t hold them back.”

A doctor enters the room just then. “Mr. Howell? You’re ready to go now.” He smiles at the two of them and leaves them to get their things.

Silence, the kind that’s louder than words. Phil gets off the bed and says, “I’ll see you around, Dan.”

He still doesn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what?


End file.
